


be mine, do crimes

by cruellae (tinkabelladk)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Moral Gray areas, Shido's dynamic duo vs the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Slowww burn, because Akechi and Akira are too similar, don't worry Ren's not a killer, makoto/kasumi on the side, omg they were roommates, p5 royal spoilers, plus some other side ships, they were roommates, we're going with Ren this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 56,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkabelladk/pseuds/cruellae
Summary: “So that’s it,” Shido said, with a fatherly hand on Ren’s shoulder. “Sign here, on the line, or go to prison for six years.”Numbly, Ren took the offered pen. The line wavered in his vision, but somehow he managed to scrawl his name across it.The whole encounter took less than ten minutes, and then Shido got up and told him to go home, that he’d call soon.Later, Ren wondered if it had all been a dream until his parents told him to pack his bags.An epic AU featuring Niijima Makoto as the fearless leader, Yoshizawa Kasumi as the reliable BFF, and Sakura Sojiro as the curry and coffee sage. Starring Amamiya Ren and Akechi Goro as partners in crime.~Spoilers for P5 Royal and vanilla P5.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 1045
Kudos: 1356
Collections: Fics that I will reread





	1. do you want to make a contract?

**be mine, do crimes**

**part 1: Angel**

_ According to Kabbalah, there are four worlds and our world is the last world: the world of action (Assiyah). Angels exist in the worlds above as a 'task' of God. They are an extension of God to produce effects in this world. After an angel has completed its task, it ceases to exist. The angel is in effect the task. _

**chapter 1: Do you want to make a contract?**

Ren did a lot of thinking while the judge deliberated. Thinking about what he’d done, how it turned out, and whether or not he would do it again if he were given the chance. Shuffling through the shitty deck of cards fate had dealt him, like the world’s worst tarot spread. 

Himself, the Fool, of course, for trying to help someone in trouble. That woman and the disgusting asshole who tried to rape her—the Lovers reversed. And the trial was, like the Tower, a calamity of fire and lightning. The verdict, Judgement, changed everything. 

Afterwards, he sat outside the courthouse on a little bench, the ankle monitor on his leg like a shackle. Stared up at the sky and thought about nothing for a good long time. 

“Six years is quite the harsh sentence for someone your age. All of your friends will be graduating from college by the time you’re released.” 

_That voice!_

Ren sat up straight and jerked away as the asshole in question joined him on the bench. The guy—whoever the hell he was—had not testified at the trial. The woman’s false testimony was enough to condemn Ren. 

“What the hell do you want?” he hissed, getting to his feet. 

“I just want to talk,” the man said. “Please, sit.” 

Ren was trembling all over with unspent rage, but he forced himself to comply. Any more violence would only add to his already ridiculous sentence. 

“I’m going to be honest with you,” the man said. “I paid her to keep quiet. I didn’t know she was going to take the story quite that far.”

Ren crossed his arms and kept his mouth shut, because nothing he said in the trial mattered, and nothing he could say now would make any difference either. 

“My name is Shido Masayoshi,” the man said. “And I came to...ah, apologize. I didn’t mean to ruin your life quite so thoroughly.” 

“Fuck off,” Ren bit out. Shido might be lying or telling the truth but it didn’t really matter either way. Ren was fucked, and his life was pretty much over. 

“I could probably persuade her to recant her testimony,” Shido said. 

Ren glanced at him warily, but a tiny tendril of hope began to crack open his heart. 

“I’m engaged in some very delicate work,” Shido said. “To be frank, I need some help, and I think you’ve got the right talent.” 

“So what?” Ren asked. “You gonna bust me out of jail?” 

“Nothing so crude.” A faint smirk graced Shido’s lips, and he handed Ren a stack of papers. “It’s a contract. I’m afraid you’re not going to have time to read all of it, you’ll just have to trust me.” 

Ren stared at the papers in his hand, his mind completely blank. He couldn’t even force himself to make sense of the words. The black lines danced and fizzed on the dazzling white space as Shido kept talking. 

“Basically, the judge would be persuaded to sign custody of you over to me. You would come to Tokyo and work for me for a year. Your parents already agreed to it.” 

His tone was stern and commanding, the voice of a man very used to getting his way. Dimly Ren wondered how influential this guy must be to have such sway over a judge. 

“So that’s it,” Shido said, with a fatherly hand on Ren’s shoulder. “Sign here, on the line, or go to prison for six years.” 

Numbly, Ren took the offered pen. The line wavered in his vision, but somehow he managed to scrawl his name across it. 

The whole encounter took less than ten minutes, and then Shido got up and told him to go home, that he’d call soon. 

Later, Ren wouldn’t be sure it hadn’t been a dream until his parents told him to pack his bags. 


	2. through a glass darkly

Ren’s head was still spinning from how quickly his circumstances had changed. Only yesterday, his parents had all but kicked him out of the house. Now he was sitting on a plush couch in Shido’s large office in the Diet Building, waiting anxiously while Shido talked softly to someone on the phone and mostly ignored him. 

A firm knock sounded on the door and Shido shouted, “Come in,” and put his phone aside with a terse goodbye to whoever was on the other line. 

The boy who stepped in couldn’t have been much older than Ren, but he was clearly much more refined. Ren wondered if that was how teenagers usually dressed in Tokyo, like they were going to a job interview or teaching a college course. 

“Shido-san.” The boy bowed respectfully. His shaggy hair was brown, but gleamed golden where it caught the light. “I am at your disposal.” 

“How did it go today?”

“Exactly as planned.” The boy’s smile was a little bit smug, but still impeccably polite. 

“Good.” Shido went to the little table behind his desk and poured himself a glass of whiskey, and a second for the boy. He did not offer any to Ren. 

“This is Amamiya Ren,” Shido said. “Ren, this is Akechi Goro. One of my most trusted subordinates.” 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Akechi said, and sipped nonchalantly at his drink like he drank whiskey all the time. Maybe he did—this was Tokyo, after all. The place Ren and all his friends used to daydream about moving to someday, making it big and living it up among the city lights. 

“I believe Ren has potential,” Shido said. “He’s committed to working for me for the next year, and I think he could be of use to you.” 

Akechi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m perfectly capable of working on my own.” 

“I know you are,” Shido said, placatingly. “But even you have to admit more strength is always a good thing.”

“I suppose.” Akechi crossed his arms. “There’s no telling if he’ll awaken to anything.” 

“Do your best,” Shido said. “If it’s hopeless, then we’ll find something else to do with him.” 

“Uh…” Ren cleared his throat. Why was his mouth so dry? “What are you going to make me do?” 

Akechi and Shido shared a glance, and Ren felt rage overtake the fear for just a fraction of a second. 

“I can’t very well do the fucking job if you won’t tell me what it is,” he snapped. 

“Goro,” Shido said, with a lazy sideways glance. “Please remind our guest of his position.”

Akechi drew a gun with unnatural speed, pointing it at Ren’s head. An automatic motion, almost like a reflex, like it was more an extension of Shido’s will than Akechi’s own. 

“Your job is to obey orders,” Shido said. “You signed the contract, and now you don’t have a choice.” 

Ren bit his tongue and sat on his hands, vibrating with unspent fury and raw terror. Akechi’s expression was like cool, darkened glass, betraying nothing. 

“That’s enough,” Shido said, and Akechi withdrew the gun, tucking it carefully into the interior pocket of his coat. “Now, Goro will be your handler. He will train you and give you your assignments. If you misbehave, you will either be sent back to jail or shot, depending on how severely you displease me. Do you understand?” 

Ren swallowed hard. “Yes. I understand.” 

“Good.” Shido picked up his phone again. “You two are dismissed.” 

Akechi bowed deeply to Shido, and walked out without a second glance. Ren followed. 

“What the hell?” Ren whispered, hurrying to catch up to him in the hallway. He would have shouted if they weren’t in the middle of the Diet Building, with important looking offices in every direction. 

“Be quiet,” Akechi chided, without slowing his stride. 

“I think you owe me an explanation,” Ren said. 

Akechi gave him an annoyed glance. “In public? I don’t think so.”

As usual, Ren’s tongue outpaced the more reasonable part of his brain. 

“I want some fucking answers,” he hissed. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Akechi gave him a feral smile that made his heart beat a little faster, but not from fear. It drew him in, made the world seem tighter and more exciting. 

“That’s because you don’t know what I can do,” Akechi said. 

“What, shoot a gun?” Ren rolled his eyes. “Anyone can do that.” 

“Fair enough.” Akechi gave him another fanged grin. “I was going to give you some time to adjust, but if you’re so eager, I’ll take you with me tonight.” 

“Where?” 

“Shibuya, to start,” Akechi said. “And you’ll see when we get there.” 


	3. Meet me in the Metaverse

Ren adapted to the Metaverse almost immediately. He seemed a little disoriented when they first stepped into Mementos, but quickly found his footing, absorbing Goro’s explanation without a fuss. 

Goro was relieved. It would make things much easier. 

It wasn’t difficult to find the executive Shido had singled out for this unfortunate fate. His yellow-eyed Shadow self was waiting in a cavern in the upper levels, muttering to himself about how they were “asking for it, those sluts.” 

“What are we going to do to him?” Ren asked, as Goro hung back at the edge of the cavern checking his supplies. 

Well. Goro supposed there was no reason to lie. Ren would find out soon enough, and if he was going to work for Shido, he’d better get used to the idea. 

“Have you heard about the mental shutdown cases in the news lately?” Goro asked. 

Ren’s eyes widened. “You’re going to kill him?” 

“Yes.” Goro met Ren’s eyes and refused to let that righteous expression fill him with remorse. “This is the job Shido expects you to help me with, so you had better get used to it.” 

“No,” Ren said, like it was that simple, like it was something a person could refuse. 

Behind Ren, the Shadow mumbled and fidgeted dangerously. This was not the best place for a moral debate. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Goro said, and stepped forward. 

Ren reached for his arm and pulled him back, and Goro responded out of sheer instinct. He was not used to being touched for any reason that wasn’t an attack, and before he realized it, he’d grabbed Ren by the forearm, jerked him forward, and thrown him to the ground with a grappling hold perfected by much practice on shadows who got too close. 

Ren stared up at him, eyes wide. Obviously violence was not a part of his daily life, but that was about to change. No one worked for Shido and kept a clean conscience. They did the job or they died. 

“Stay there,” Goro said firmly. 

Ren pressed his mouth into a thin line, but didn’t reply. 

Goro didn’t like leaving Ren, an unknown quantity, at his back, but the Shadow was approaching them so he was out of time to come up with any other options. He summoned Loki and began the fight. 

The battle didn’t go well. Despite his best efforts, his strikes felt weaker than usual, his aim less accurate. Like Ren’s fierce disapproval had shaken his heart, softened his iron resolve. 

It pissed him off. Why should he give a fuck what this trash thought of him? But even so, he struggled to maintain his usual fury. 

The fight dragged on and on, until Goro was knocked to the ground by a powerful bless spell. He staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his face, his right side singed from the heat of the holy attack. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this helpless, and it made him want to strangle Ren and the Shadow both until the light left their cursed eyes. 

“Stop!” 

Stumbling wildly, Ren threw himself between Goro and the attacking shadow. He groaned, clutching at his head like he was in pain, shuddering in agony. 

And then—

Blue flame and dark wings, extravagantly feathered. Sharp, clean angles of brilliant red, glossy black. 

Ren, with blood on his face and a wicked grin. 

_ “Come, Arsene!”  _

Goro stared at the boy in the long black coat, transfixed by his grace and ferocity as he hurled curses at the enemy, weaving in and out of its reach, his dagger flashing wildly as it caught the light.

He was  _ beautiful.  _ Full of righteous fury and dark cunning, a gentleman and a demon both. His hands were deft with a knife, his voice low and commanding as he called forth his Persona’s magic. 

And when Goro scrambled to his feet and rejoined the battle, they moved in perfect synchronization without even speaking, Loki’s wild rage and Arsene’s cleverness complementing each other flawlessly. 

Goro felt like some long lost part of himself had just clicked into place, like they were two sides of the same coin, two halves of the same whole. Like he could take on the Reaper itself with Ren by his side. 

And then—too soon—the battle was over, and as Loki and Arsene faded away to be called later, so too did the strange feeling of wonder disappear. 

“I’m sorry,” the shadow whimpered, once again shrunk back to the form of the human it belonged to. “I should never have touched those girls.” 

“That’s right,” Ren said, his hands in his pockets. His coattails flared despite the lack of a breeze in this humid corner of Mementos. “I think you should try to atone for it.” 

“Atone.” The shadow looked at Ren with awe, stunned by this revelation. “I could turn myself in. I could—”

With a single gunshot, Goro put the pathetic creature out of its misery. It crumpled in on itself and dissolved into smoke like shadows always did. Dispelled cognition always left a slightly acrid smell, like industrial smog, but that also dispersed within a few seconds, leaving no evidence anything was ever there. 

Sometimes it was a relief to never have a body left behind. Other times, it made Goro’s work feel disconnected and insubstantial. He had to remind himself that he was taking lives, just as definitively as if he’d found them in the real world and shot them in the head. 

“You...you killed him,” Ren murmured, staring at the spot where just a few moments ago, the shadow had cowered. 

“Well, probably not yet,” Goro admitted. “Sometimes it takes a little while for it to catch up with the actual person.” 

Looking at the empty space where the shadow had been, he felt nothing _.  _ He felt  _ nothing _ , because to feel anything at all would be to compromise his mission, the sole purpose of his entire wretched life. 

Behind a pale mask lined with jet black filigree, Ren’s eyes were narrow and accusing. “How could you do it? Just like that, like you don’t even care?” 

“Practice,” Goro said, holstering his gun. He started walking towards the exit, and Ren hurried to catch up to him, boots echoing on the concrete. 

“You can’t just  _ do  _ that,” Ren insisted, stepping into his path. “You can’t—”

“You should have protected the shadow instead of me, if that’s how you feel,” Goro said. “Now we’d better get going before something bigger finds us.” 

“So I should have let you die?” 

Goro sighed, setting a brisk pace through the deserted subway tunnels. This whole thing was a complete mistake. Ren was never going to be any good at this line of work—he’d be more of a liability than an asset. And Goro was more than capable of doing Shido’s bidding on his own. 

“I didn’t know.” Ren sounded like he was pleading, a sharp contrast to the smooth confidence he’d displayed while fighting. “I didn’t know this was what Shido wanted me to do.” 

“Well, now you do.” The entrance to Mementos came into sight, much to Goro’s relief. 

He led Ren back out into the warm twilight, his clothes rippling gently against his skin as they changed back into his usual summer uniform. Ren was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, and looked charmingly provincial. Add to that the glasses and the head of messy hair, and he was the perfect picture of ordinary and non-threatening. 

Behind the glasses, however, his eyes smoldered. 

“You’re a monster,” he said, his voice low and accusing. “You, and Shido, and—”

“Akechi-kun?!” A squeal from nearby drew Goro’s attention, and two girls about his same age quickly approached him. 

“It really is him,” said the shorter one. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a white turtleneck with a school uniform skirt and a black knee brace on one leg. Beside her, the other girl was strikingly beautiful, with blonde pigtails and brilliant blue eyes. 

“Who is he?” the blonde girl asked, studying Akechi. “I think I’ve seen him somewhere before.” 

“He’s a famous detective,” the short one said. “Remember Ann? I made you watch that interview on TV?” 

“He’s a criminal.” The barely controlled rage in Ren’s voice made something warm uncurl in Goro’s gut. No one ever dared challenge him like that, no one. 

The short girl laughed nervously, like Ren was making a joke. Ann simply watched them, like she was waiting to pass judgement until she fully understood. 

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” Goro said, with his best smile, the one he practiced every day in the mirror when he was fifteen until he could do it without scaring people. “He signed a contract and now he regrets it. He probably should have read it first.” 

“Oh, you mean like an NDA?” Ann asked. “I’ve signed like a dozen of those for different photoshoots. Don’t worry too much about it.” 

Ren met Goro’s eyes and something electric passed between them. Ren looked like he wanted to murder Goro on the spot, and somehow that was much more interesting than any of the boys or girls who had tried to get close to Goro since he became an idol. 

“It was wonderful to meet the two of you,” Goro said with another endearing smile, head tilted for full effect. “But I’m afraid we have to run. You understand how it is.” 

“Thanks for talking with us,” the short girl said shyly. The blonde girl nodded along with her, watching Ren curiously until Goro dragged him along to the stairs leading down into the station. 

“Shido failed to set up any living arrangements for you.” Goro sighed wearily. This was not going to be fun, he could already tell. “So I suppose it falls to me.” 

Ren said nothing, but his eyes were starkly accusing. Goro did his best to ignore them for the rest of the train ride. 


	4. Alternatives to murder

Exhausted and hopeless, Ren wandered through back alleys and down narrow side streets, his head down and shoulders hunched. He walked for a long time, while around him the sun set and the air remained humid and pleasant. The city settled into evening lethargy, street lights illuminating the empty sidewalks.

_ What the hell am I going to do?  _

He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could just walk away now that he knew Shido’s secret. But he couldn’t become a soulless killer like Akechi. 

So he just kept moving, like maybe an answer would come to him if he wandered far enough. 

He walked past a grocery store closing up for the night, the clerks packing away produce and checking shelves. A second-hand shop so cluttered with used TVs and worn furniture the proprietor had to stand at the entrance, beckoning customers. A theater, boarded up and foreboding, and a seedy looking clinic. 

He turned down a narrow alley and found a cafe tucked away to one side. The windows were warm and welcoming, panes of golden light in the darkness. He pushed open the door without thinking, then hesitated when he saw he was the only customer there. 

“What can I get for ya?” 

The man behind the bar was in his forties or fifties, a stern, narrow face softened slightly by the bristly goatee. 

“I, uh...coffee,” Ren said, sliding onto the furthest barstool. “Thanks.” 

The TV was playing softly in the corner, and the sound of Akechi’s voice over the television speaker startled Ren out of his thoughts. 

“Well, it all made sense in the end, but I admit I had a hard time finding some of the clues,” Akechi was saying. 

He was seated facing a talk show host, his hands clasped on his knee and a polite smile on his face. Nothing at all like the boy who held a gun to Ren’s head and waited obediently for Shido’s command. 

“You must be pretty clever to have figured all that out,” the host said. 

Akechi smiled. He really was charming like this, if you didn’t know it was all a lie. “It’s possible to be  _ too  _ clever, you know. I’m tired of guessing the endings to mystery novels before I finish them.” 

The canned laughter of the studio audience should have been grating, but Ren actually just felt sad. Because Shido and Akechi were going to win, no matter what move he made. And that was shitty for him, but it was worse for a lot of other people, like that guy Akechi killed, like that woman Shido forced into giving false testimony. Her bruises and lacerations, entered into evidence for the trial, had certainly not been left by Ren. 

A plate of curry and rice slid across the counter, and Ren looked up at the proprietor in surprise. 

“We’ve got extra,” the man said gruffly. “It’s on the house. Eat up, it’ll do ya some good.” 

“Thanks,” Ren said. It smelled amazing and tasted just about as good, and before he realized it his plate was entirely clean. He resisted the urge to lick away what was left, but just barely. 

He pulled out some money to pay for the coffee, and the older man took it with a nod. 

“Not from here, are ya?”

“No,” Ren said, feeling wildly self-conscious. “Is it that obvious?” 

“The big city can seem a little overwhelming,” the man said. “Take some getting used to. You just gotta find your place. You’ll do fine.” 

Ren smiled back at him. He felt like the coffee and curry had warmed him somewhat, and now he was a little less hopeless, a little less desperate. Ready to go back to Akechi and hash things out, see if there was some kind of solution. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Yeah, yeah.” The man waved him away and turned back to the bar. 

Akechi’s house was only two blocks away from the cafe, but Ren got lost, so it ended up taking him another hour to reach it. By the time he finally found the front door, he was utterly exhausted. 

He knocked hard, waited a few seconds, then knocked again. 

Akechi took his sweet fucking time, but eventually opened the door looking as fresh and indifferent as he had at three in the afternoon. 

“Ready to talk now, are we?” he said smugly. 

Ren nodded, too tired to come up with something snarky. 

Akechi led Ren to the kitchen table and told him to sit. He slumped in one of the seats and stared at the wooden tabletop until Akechi set a mug of steaming tea in front of him. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. 

“Let’s figure this out.” Akechi put a piece of paper on the table and divided it into thirds with quick strokes of the pen. “The way I see it, you have three options.” 

Ren nodded wearily, though he had no idea what those options might be. 

“Number one, you go home to your family. Then Shido kills you for knowing too much and running away.” 

Akechi drew a clean “X” through the first column with ruthless precision, and then moved on to the middle, tapping it with his pen. 

“Second option, you stay here. You become a murderous criminal like me. You are wildly unhappy and have sacrificed your core sense of self. Eventually you are unable to summon your Persona and Shido kills you because you’re useless.” 

He drew a frowny face in the second column, then put an X through it. 

“Number three,” he said, looking up at Ren carefully. “You take my offer.” 

Ren drew his arms closer against his body, watching Akechi warily. 

“What’s your offer?”

Akechi set the pen down and stared hard into Ren’s eyes. “I’m going to tell you something I have never told another soul.” 

Ren nodded, a little unnerved by the intensity of Akechi’s gaze. 

“Shido is my father,” Akechi said. “He doesn’t know it, but I’m his bastard son. My mother was a sex worker who killed herself after he left her with nothing but a worthless brat to take care of.” 

“Oh.” Ren blinked, a little surprised at Akechi’s complete lack of emotion despite the horrible story of his origins. At the venom in his voice, doled out in equal measure when he talked about Shido and when he mentioned himself. 

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” Akechi snapped. “Don’t think this means I’m less of a monster.” 

“I don’t,” Ren said, though he wasn’t so sure. If his circumstances had been similar, wouldn’t he be the same?

“Everything I do is driven by a singular purpose,” Akechi said, his hand curled into a fist so tight his knuckles had gone pale and bloodless. “It’s an absurdly personal grudge.” 

“Against Shido?” Ren guessed. 

“Yes. Right now I’m helping him achieve his dreams. I’ve wormed my way into his inner circle so that when he becomes Prime Minister, at his moment of triumph, I can whisper in his ear who I am and ruin everything he’s ever accomplished. At the height of his accomplishments, he’ll realize I’m the only reason he got there.” 

“Wow.” Ren leaned back in his chair. “You’re not kidding about the grudge. I, uh…I don’t really know what to say to that.” 

Ren was no expert in revenge plans, but he would have expected something more diabolical and clever from someone like Akechi. Instead, it felt like there was something childish and deeply irrational about his scheme. A desperate desire for acknowledgement, when really he should be out for Shido’s blood. But maybe when family got involved, even a killer like Akechi had blind spots. 

“Well.” Akechi studied his fingernails. Now that he’d gotten that confession out, he looked completely calm and in control again. “Now you know. If you ever tell anyone, I will kill you and all of your family.” 

Ren snorted, though he was unnerved by the ease with which Akechi made that threat. He didn’t doubt it for a moment. 

“I’m not stupid,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not gonna say anything.” 

“Good. And...that brings me to this third option.” Akechi drew an “A” in the third column so precisely it resembled the letter engraved on the briefcase by the door. “You help me take down Shido when the time comes. In return, I will help you...preserve your moral integrity.”

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that if Shido tells you to do a hit, I will do it. I’m more than capable of getting around the Metaverse on my own, and this way your hands stay clean.” 

“And...what do I do?” 

“You keep up appearances so Shido doesn’t suspect a thing.” 

Ren nodded slowly. This was a lot to absorb, and he was utterly exhausted. But something about it bothered him. 

“I don’t like the idea of having someone else do my dirty work.”

“I’d be doing it anyway, even if you had never entered the picture,” Akechi said. “And if I didn’t, someone else would. It makes no difference at all to my victims who kills them; their deaths are inevitable from the start.” 

“But it’s dangerous,” Ren pressed on. “You could get hurt.” 

The corner of Akechi’s mouth twisted into a cynical smile. “Such a gentleman. Well, so what? If something happens to me, that’s one less criminal in the world.” 

_ You cannot let him bear this burden alone.  _ Arsene’s low, resonant voice, welling up from somewhere deep inside Ren.  _ It would not be right.  _

Ren sighed, pressed his fingers to his forehead. Arsene was right, of course. If he hadn’t been with Akechi this afternoon, who knows what would have happened? 

“I’ll...help you,” he said, finally. “I won’t kill anyone. But if you go into the Metaverse, I’ll go with you and help you fight.” 

_ Because I would rather be an accessory to a hundred crimes than have your blood on my hands.  _

Ren blinked away the errant thought. It didn’t make any sense—he hardly knew Akechi at all. But when they fought together against that shadow, he’d felt a connection all the same. Like the thrum of the bass and the wild, dancing notes of a saxophone, tied to the same melody and moving to the same beat. 

“I...see.” Akechi clearly hadn’t expected such an offer. But after a moment, he nodded. “Option three it is, then.” 


	5. Welcome to the Velvet Room

“Get up, inmate.” Caroline hit the bars of the cell with her baton, the sound ringing through the dank cell. 

Goro groaned, pushing himself off the hard cot and getting to his feet. He hated the Velvet Room, hated what they did to him there. Hated the sight of Igor’s long-nosed face and the shrill wardens who cajoled Goro through the process. 

“Must we do this tonight?” he said, blinking blearily. And then he opened his eyes fully and startled. 

His cell was different. He hadn’t known that was even possible, but now it was twice as wide, and a second cot had been pushed up against the opposite wall.

“Surprised?” Caroline asked in her snotty way. “You have a cellmate now, so you’d better behave and be a good influence.” 

“A cellmate?” 

“Another Trickster,” Justine explained. 

“You’ve done well to recruit him.” Igor folded his hands beneath his chin, a smile stretching beneath the length of his nose. “Now the game can begin.” 

“I’m not playing your fucking game,” Goro muttered.

“Show some respect, inmate!”

Goro rolled his eyes. “Are we going to get to work, or am I just here to listen to your bullshit?” 

“Language!” The baton hit the bars again, with murderous intent. 

“Perhaps the prisoner is merely eager to begin.” Justine stepped forward and handed him a small vial of glowing green liquid. “Who is tonight’s sacrifice for?” 

“For Loki,” Goro said, holding the bottle of poison up to the light as though that could give him some clue to its effects. It had to be better than the electric chair, at least. 

“Very well.” A look that was almost sympathetic crossed Justine’s face, and the two wardens stepped back to watch. 

If it didn’t make his Personas stronger, there would be no force on earth that could compel Goro to do this. But every time he killed himself in the Velvet Room, he woke up a little more powerful, a little more prepared to fulfill his destiny. 

If only the dying part didn’t hurt so much. If only it didn’t feel so real that every time he was gripped by terror as the darkness overtook him, sure that this time he wouldn’t wake from it, that this time it was real. 

“Bottoms up,” he said, raising the bottle in a mock toast, and swallowed the poison inside. 

Goro was in the kitchen heating water for a cup of instant coffee when he heard the scuffle of a footstep behind him. In a heartbeat, he had a kitchen knife in one hand and the invader’s wrist wrenched at a painful angle in the other. 

“Holy shit, Akechi, it’s just me.”

Of course. Just Amamiya, who had spent the night because it was too late to arrange anything else for him. 

Amamiya, who was likely going to become his cellmate in that bizarre place between reality and dreams. 

“Be careful,” Goro said, releasing him and sliding the kitchen knife back into the block. “Make a little more noise next time you walk.” 

“Um. Okay…” Amamiya rubbed his wrist, looking up at Goro with soft gray eyes, the kind of eyes that in another life, where Goro’s heart hadn’t rotted away to a hardened pit, might have made him feel something. 

“Hey, is that instant coffee?” Amamiya made a face. “Can I have some?”

“I suppose.” Goro made two steaming cups and handed one over. “We’re going to have to figure out your living situation, and find a school for you.”

“Right.” Amamiya scratched his head and blinked a few times. “It’s really early, though. Give me a few minutes to wake up?” 

Goro shrugged. “I have an interview in a few hours, so I need to get going. Feel free to do whatever you want; I don’t really care. Shido wants to see us both this afternoon, so I will meet you here and make sure you don’t get lost on the way.” 

“Sounds good.” Ren smiled at him, then flopped down on the sofa and picked up the TV remote. “Can I watch your interview?” 

“If you like,” Goro said, “though it isn’t very interesting.” 

“Nah. I think you’re really interesting,” Amamiya said, without turning around. “Like some kind of super villain. It’s kind of cool, if you can ignore the horrible parts.” 

“I...see.” 

_ A super villain…  _ No one had ever said anything like that to Goro before. He found he liked it a lot better than he liked most of the things his fans said. 


	6. The angel is, in effect, the task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mention of a past dubcon relationship between an adult and a minor.

Amamiya looked a little bewildered by the rush and bustle of Tokyo, stumbling as the train made a sharp curve. It wouldn’t have taken a detective to know he wasn’t from here. 

Their meeting with Shido had gone well. Amamiya was a good actor, and Shido hadn’t suspected a thing. Instead, he’d been glad to have a new lackey he could order around the Metaverse. If only he knew what Akechi was planning…

The only downside was that Shido flat out refused to pay for an apartment for Amamiya. “You’ve got that entire house to yourself,” he’d said. “Put up with him for a little while. It won’t kill you.”

It was annoying, to say the least, but Goro had learned from much experience when he could push Shido and when it was hopeless. This, unfortunately, was the latter. 

The other side effect of having to meet with Shido unexpectedly on a Sunday evening was that now Akechi was dangerously close to being late for a dinner meeting. He couldn’t very well leave provincial Amamiya to wander around Tokyo on his own—he’d likely get lost, mugged, scammed, or some combination of the three—so there was no choice but to bring him along. 

Amamiya was somewhat underdressed for the restaurant they walked into, and he looked around with undisguised awe at the modern art and angular chandeliers. 

“Ritzy,” he murmured under his breath. 

Akechi remembered the first time he’d walked into a restaurant, by Shido’s side. He’d been fifteen—growing up in institutions meant that, aside from school, he’d rarely interacted with the outside world—and even more in awe. Shido had explained to him how to order food and scolded him for his table manners, because even then, he’d somehow seen the potential for Akechi to make a name for himself, and how that fame could serve Shido’s own purposes. 

“Akechi-kun.” The hostess bowed deeply. “I saw your name on the list of reservations but I thought it couldn’t possibly be  _ you _ . I’m such a big fan.” 

As always, the adoration of the public filled Goro with a bitter, double edged contempt and a desperate craving for more. He hid it with a charming smile, taking her hand and bending over to kiss the back of it like the courtly prince she expected. 

Her cheeks flushed predictably and she giggled. “Let me show you to your table,” she said, looking giddy. 

They set him in the front, by the windows, of course. All the better for passers-by to see that the owner had managed to snag an idol to eat at his restaurant. Goro was under no illusions that his fame came primarily from being a clever detective, after all. He was as much an idol as any of them, and the detective work was only the gimmick that got him there. 

“And aren’t you lucky to be having dinner with Akechi-kun?” the waitress said to Amamiya, handing him a menu. “Are you in training to be a detective too?”

“How did you guess?” Goro asked, with an expression that was both surprised and pleased, eyes wide, mouth turned in a sweet smile. “You must be something of a detective yourself.” 

Her face lit up like he’d promised her the moon. People were so easy to manipulate. 

“You’re such a fucking con artist,” Amamiya whispered, as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. But he looked more impressed than annoyed. 

“Everyone lies,” Goro replied, dropping the act for just a few moments. Amamiya knew the true nature of his work, so there was no reason to pretend he was anything but a monster. 

A bitter smile crossed Amamiya’s face. “Yeah. I know.” 

Across the room, Goro caught sight of Yoshizawa Shinichi making his way through the restaurant toward their table. One of Goro’s least favorite people, but the occasional meeting was a necessary evil as Yoshizawa’s influence was very important to Goro’s career. 

“Akechi-kun.” Something flashed across Yoshizawa’s face as he approached the table. Was it shame? Some lingering desire? Anger that Goro had dared break away? 

It was hard to know. Yoshizawa could keep his emotions very close to his chest if need be. 

However, it was also inconsequential. Shido now had complete power over Yoshizawa—there was no need to play nice. 

“Yoshizawa-san.” Goro got up and bowed, and Amamiya followed his example. “This is my friend, Amamiya.” 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Yoshizawa said. 

A shock of red hair caught Goro’s eye, and Sumire Yoshizawa bounded up to join them. With her hair up and a bold smile on her face, she looked exactly like her dead sister. The effect was a little unnerving. 

“It’s good to see you, Akechi-senpai,” Sumire said. Unlike her father, her face betrayed a strange mix of emotions. But then, she had always been an unusual girl. “And to meet you, Amamiya.”

Over dinner, Goro and Yoshizawa discussed business—both Goro’s upcoming interview and more generally the spin of the coverage they should give Shido. As always, Yoshizawa caved to almost anything Goro wanted, with a guilty glance downward and a sigh. 

It was disgusting. All of this was disgusting, and at the end of it, all Goro wanted was a hot shower and some time to himself. 

Across the table, Amamiya and Sumire were talking softly, thick as thieves. Every so often she giggled, looking delighted at something he’d said. 

Fortunately Yoshizawa seemed no more eager than Goro to linger over dessert and coffee, and took theirs to go. Goro would have left as well, but he had a reputation for his (nonexistent) sweet tooth, and the staff was apparently very excited for him to try some peach cobbler or something. 

“Why do you hate him?” Amamiya asked, as they ate their dessert. It wasn’t bad, if you liked that sort of thing. 

“Who?” Goro feigned ignorance. “Yoshizawa-san?” 

“Yeah.” Amamiya studied him carefully. “When you first saw him, you looked like you wanted to put a bullet in his brain.” 

“I’m sure you’re imagining things,” Goro said. “But if I did hate him...I have my reasons. Don’t ask too many questions if you want to avoid that very thing.” 

That shut Amamiya up, though he seemed more contemplative than afraid. 

Goro sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment. And it came back to him, like it always did when he saw Yoshizawa. 

_ “Yoshizawa is still grieving for his daughter,” Shido said, leaning back against his desk. His tie and cuffs were loosened at the end of a long day, and he smelled like he’d already started drinking.  _

_ “Understandable, given the circumstances,” Goro said.  _

_ “It means he’s fucking worthless to me right now,” Shido growled. “He needs a distraction, and we need leverage. He’s getting too big to be unchecked.”  _

_ “Do you want me to try and find his Shadow?” _

_ “I doubt he has one.” Shido set his phone down and his cold eyes landed on Goro. “You like boys, don’t you?”  _

_ Goro raised an eyebrow, taking an automatic step back. He was only sixteen, then, and still learning to hide his emotions.  _

_ “It doesn’t really matter but it might make things easier.” Shido put his hand under Goro’s chin and tilted his face up. “You’re pretty enough, and a quick learner.” _

_ “I—I don’t know what you mean,” Goro said, holding himself perfectly still so his body wouldn’t tremble. He was unused to being touched.  _

_ “I mean I’m going to let him fuck you,” Shido said, releasing Goro and picking up his phone instead. “You’ll do this for me, won’t you, Goro? I need your help, and it has to be you. You’re the only one clever enough to pull it off, the only one I can trust.”  _

It was strange, wasn’t it, that he always dwelled on this moment, out of all the shitty ones that came after. The realization that Shido was willing to use him in any way necessary. It shouldn’t have been a shock, but it was. 

Goro was lost in it until a warm body stumbled against him as the train took a sharp curve. He caught Amamiya around the waist, steadying him, and even when Amamiya righted himself and grabbed the overhead bar, the lingering press of warmth made Goro’s skin tingle. 

How long had it been since someone touched him? It had been more than a year since he broke away from Yoshizawa, and since then he’d kept his distance from anyone who might try to get close. Not that his heart had been welcoming before, but now it was closed off entirely. 

“Sorry.” Amamiya gave him an awkward smile. “Guess I’m still getting used to this.”

_ That makes two of us.  _


	7. rap sheet a mile long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note that the summary has changed slightly. I had a cool idea and it means that this story will likely have spoilers for all of P5 Royal, not just Kasumi's story. Be warned! (though those spoilers won't start until chapter 30ish)

Kasumi lowered her gaze and let her hair fall in her face as the student council president hurried past, books clutched to her chest and a tense frown on her lovely lips. She was pretty sure Makoto hated her because all the special privileges she got generated a lot of hassle for the student council to coordinate. 

It didn’t help that anytime she had a chance to speak to Makoto, she made a complete fool of herself. Kasumi didn’t mean to—her tongue just twisted and stumbled and her face flushed every time she dared look in Makoto’s beautiful eyes. 

“Who’s that?” By Kasumi’s side, Ren was holding too many books, having acquired all of the textbooks for his classes just this morning, but still without a locker. 

“Makoto. She’s our student council president.” 

“Huh.” Ren peered after her. “She seems worried about something.” 

Kasumi shrugged. “Did you bring a lunch?” 

“Nah. Pretty sure Akechi would shoot me if I took anything from his kitchen. Figured I could buy something here. Can you point me in the right direction?” 

For a moment, Kasumi was lost in the vivid memory of coming downstairs in the early morning to find Akechi in the kitchen, wearing only a pair of her father’s sweatpants, too large and slung low on his hips, drinking a glass of orange juice. It wasn’t the first time they’d met, but it was the first time she realized the nature of his relationship with her father. 

“Uh, that way,” Kasumi murmured, pointing towards the entrance. “You can buy some bread and stuff.” 

“Thanks,” Ren said, shuffling under the weight of all his books. “Do you want anything?” 

Kasumi shook her head. Her nutritional requirements were well beyond what a school store could supply. 

“I’ll be on the roof,” she said, with a slight smile. “If you want to join me.” 

Ren nodded. “I’ll meet you there.” 

“So how do you know Akechi?” Ren asked, leaning against the wall, half turned away from her to look out at the street.

“He knows my father,” Kasumi said softly. “Akechi’s famous. My father has a lot of connections that are useful to him.” 

“Right.” Ren turned towards her. “So, do you have any advice? For dealing with him, I mean.” 

“I...I don’t know,” Kasumi said. “We’re not...friends.” 

What was the correct word for a relationship where she once loaned him a scarf to cover up a hickey her father left on him but never exchanged phone numbers? 

She wasn’t sure, but it certainly wasn’t friendship. 

“He doesn’t seem like he has many friends,” Ren said. “I guess between being an idol, working as a detective, school, and his other stuff, he probably doesn’t have time for it.” 

Not for the first time, Kasumi found herself feeling sorry for Akechi. It wasn’t a feeling she  _ liked _ , but it was fair. If he was usually cold to her when they interacted, she understood why. 

The door to the roof opened and Ryuji walked out, two bottles of soda in his hand. 

“Hey, Sumi,” he said, and then his eyes landed on Ren. “Hiya. I’m Sakamato Ryuji. You’re the transfer student, right?” 

“Right,” Ren said, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“You want a soda?” Ryuji held one out to him and set the other in front of Kasumi. 

_ Always such a gentleman _ , she thought. No one else ever seemed to see it. 

“Thanks,” Ren said, but his eyes didn’t lose their suspicious glint. Kasumi couldn’t blame him, not with all the rumors that were floating around the school, the whispers that stirred every time he turned his back. 

“Hey man, whaddya think of Shujin?” Ryuji settled into one of the chairs and put his feet up on the table, peeling the wrapper off a candy bar. “Shitty, right?” 

Ren laughed, relaxing somewhat. “You could say that.” 

“Yeah, people here are assholes,” Ryuji said. “If it makes you feel better, they only quit talking about me because they’re talking about you.” 

A hint of a wicked smile. “I guess that means you owe me,” Ren said. 

“Sure do. Too bad for you I’m broke.” Ryuji gave him an endearing, crooked grin. 

“Is that what you’re having for lunch?” Kasumi leaned across the table and swiped Ryuji’s candy bar from him. He squawked and tried to grab it back, nearly tipping his chair in the process. 

“No,” Kasumi said sternly, sliding her salad across the table. “Eat something healthy.” 

“You’re so cruel,” Ryuji said, slumping over in despair. 

The wild sound of Ren’s laughter startled them both, but only for a moment, then they all joined in. 

After that, conversation flowed more freely, and the laughter came more easily, and by the end of it Kasumi was smiling more than she had in a long time. Maybe the three of them were outcasts, but it wasn’t so bad as long as they weren’t dealing with it alone. 


	8. Change of heart

**Ren:** help, my roommate is a neat freak

**Kasumi:** oh no! I have some cleaning tips I can share with you senpai

**Ren:** thanks

**Ren:** but i’d rather just let him kill me

**Kasumi:** I’m sure he wouldn’t go that far.

Ren soon discovered that Akechi was fastidiously tidy for a hitman, or for anybody, really. He kept everything he owned exhaustively organized, down to the last rubber band and paper clip. The house was devoid of decorations except for a large, framed map of Tokyo and a campaign poster with Shido’s face on it that Akechi used for dart practice. He had a whole stack of them squirreled away from the last time Shido ran for office, and no matter how drunk he was, he could nail Shido right between the eyes every time. 

Ren knew this because Akechi was drunk surprisingly often. Only late at night, and only when there was no possibility they might be called on to go into the Metaverse. But it was a frequent occurrence, and while Akechi never tried to hide it from Ren, he never offered Ren any alcohol either. He was a remarkably composed drunk, neither weepy nor belligerent, but his sharp edges softened and his quick wit slowed just enough to be noticeable. 

Akechi had given Ren free run of his attic, which came with a futon, dresser, and desk that Akechi bought for him during his first few days in Tokyo. It wasn’t a bad arrangement. The attic was roomy enough to keep Ren from going stir crazy, and it felt somewhat separate from the rest of the house, so he and Akechi could have some space between them. 

Usually Ren just did his best to keep out of Akechi’s way. But gradually his curiosity pulled at him, until he started to make a habit of coming downstairs to see what Akechi was doing. 

Tonight, Akechi was watching himself on TV. Ren joined him on the couch, careful to leave a few feet of distance between them, just to see what would happen. If his presence would be tolerated tonight or not. 

Akechi didn’t acknowledge him, which was basically a win. Together, they watched the clever, sweet Detective Prince charm interviewer and crowd alike, to everyone’s delight. 

When the interview was over, Akechi sighed and went into the kitchen. Ren heard the clink of glassware, the sound of liquid pouring. 

And then, to his great shock, Akechi said, “Do you want some?” 

He turned around on the couch, leaning over the back. “Huh?” 

Akechi held up the bottle of whiskey and raised an eyebrow. “It’s very good whiskey. I stole it from Shido’s ship.” 

“Uh, sure,” Ren said, because he was seventeen and would try almost anything at least once. “Shido has a ship?” 

“Yes. It’s as ugly as he is.” Akechi smirked, setting a glass for Ren on the coffee table and perching on the edge of the couch like a bright eyed crow. 

Ren took a sip of whiskey and shuddered. Akechi laughed, but for once it didn’t sound mean, just playful. 

“You really drink this?” Ren asked, grimacing at the glass. “In great enough quantities to get drunk?” 

“You are a child,” Akechi said imperiously. “And it’s an acquired taste. You can’t go to the kind of parties Shido throws and not drink; his sycophants won’t tolerate it.” 

“Shido invites you to his parties?” Ren pretended at outrage, huffing indignantly. “He’s never invited me to so much as a brunch.” 

Akechi laughed, and Ren felt a little dizzy with how much he liked the sound. 

“Brunch with Shido. What a truly repulsive thought.” 

“ _ You! You’re a Croissant of the People,”  _ Ren said, in his best Shido voice. “ _ I’m a politician who listens to his breakfast food and addresses their needs without fail. Elect me as the Prime Minister of Brunch and I will lead this meal into prosperity, hope, and a brighter future.”  _

Akechi laughed harder, grinning wildly at Ren. “God, but he’s a bastard, isn’t he? You and I seem to be the only ones who see it.” 

“Someday everyone will,” Ren said. “Trust me.” 

Akechi rolled his eyes. “I don’t trust anyone.” 

“Shocking,” Ren declared dryly. 

Akechi smiled, then, and it felt like a victory. 

“You’re a detective.” Ren tossed the small black and red calling card he’d pocketed earlier today at Akechi. “What do you think of this?” 

Akechi caught it easily and examined it, turning it over slowly in his hands. 

“Kamoshida,” he said, thoughtfully. “That’s the coach you were talking about.” 

“Yeah, the asshole,” Ren said, with no small amount of anger. “The one that made a girl jump off the roof.” 

“I see. And someone’s going to steal his heart?” 

Ren shrugged. “Someone did. He held an assembly this morning and confessed all his crimes. It was kind of pathetic, actually. He wanted to kill himself, then begged for someone to call the police to take him in.” 

“Fascinating.” Akechi held the card up to the light like some clue might be hidden there. “Was it blackmail, do you think?” 

“I don’t think so. He wasn’t acting. It was like someone got inside his head.” 

Akechi’s eyes flashed like drawn steel. “It reminds you of something.” 

Ren wondered how Akechi always seemed to know what he was thinking. Sometimes it felt like they were tied together by something like fate. But that was ridiculous. 

“Yeah,” he said. “The incidents where people have been randomly going psychotic.” 

Ren didn’t know anything about those incidents, other than what they said on the news. But they just seemed to be the same, somehow. 

“Yes. I think so too.” Akechi studied the little card, his brow furrowed. Ren got the distinct feeling there was something Akechi wasn’t telling him. “Let me know what comes of this, will you?” 

“Sure,” Ren said easily. Whatever the hell was going on, they were in it together. 


	9. You never forget your first time

Goro had spent a lot of time trying very hard to forget the first time he killed someone, that exact moment, when Wakaba’s eyes went wide and then her Shadow dissolved into something finer than sand and blew away. 

But it came back to him now, as he watched Ren on his hands and knees, gripping the edge of the subway platform as he threw up the contents of his stomach onto the tracks. 

They’d been coming into Mementos several times a week for the last month, but this was the first time Goro had actually had a job to do. Ren hadn’t protested, had in fact sworn he was ready to tag along. Goro had even felt a kind of cautious happiness, having someone by his side. 

But clearly Ren had not been ready. Goro considered the possibility that he might never be. 

He leaned against the waiting room structure and watched the escalators for any threats, though these side passages were usually safe. Ren got to his feet slowly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 

“Next time I’ll handle it better,” he said, squaring his shoulders. 

“There won’t be a next time,” Goro said, more severely than he’d meant to. “I’m not taking you again.” 

Somehow over the last month he’d gotten sentimental, attached to this idea of having a friend, a partner in crime. He should have known better, known that Ren’s loyalty only stretched as far as Goro’s lies. Once he saw the rot at Goro’s core, he would think better of his choices. 

“There’s no way I can talk you out of this whole thing, is there?” Ren sounded resigned, weary. “We could run away. Change our names, cut our hair. Pick up again somewhere else.” 

A childish fantasy. Shido would find them, but that was beside the point. 

“If that’s what you want, then go. I’ll tell Shido you were killed down here. You’d probably make it.” 

Ren crossed his arms, the fire back in his eyes. “Not without you.” 

For once, Goro was the first to look away. “I’m not giving up my plan.” 

“Then I’m with you,” Ren said. “I just...need to get used to it. The first time I saw you do it, I guess it just didn’t seem real. I didn’t understand it until later. But this time you spent so long talking to the Shadow. It made me realize that was a real person in there. And sure, he’d done some bad stuff. But I don’t think people should die for embezzling.” 

“That’s not why he died.” 

Ren sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. He’d taken off his long coat, and without it he looked oddly vulnerable, more a human and less a stylish wraith. 

“It wasn’t easy for me at first either,” Goro said. “My first kill was the researcher who brought me into the Metaverse.”

Ren’s eyes lingered on his face, gentle and curious. “Why’d you do it?” 

Goro would ordinarily never divulge something like this to anyone. But something about Ren always got under his skin, pushing and peeling until his raw core was exposed. 

“I was a test subject,” he said. “I was in her Palace, a cognitive world she had created by distorting her own heart.”

He sighed, drumming the claws of his gauntlets against the glass waiting area wall. He could still picture the first time he saw them, slick and dripping blood. 

“They knew how to enter the cognitive world, and they were looking for a Persona user. All they knew was that fear and pain were catalysts. So they did their best to awaken mine.” 

“That’s horrible,” Ren said, with a low undercurrent of fury to his voice. 

“They were under orders from Shido to hurry the process along,” Goro said. “Finally, they pushed hard enough and I awoke to Loki. And then I killed them all, starting with the researcher’s Shadow.” 

It was a very abbreviated version of the story—Goro didn’t know how to explain Wakaba, how she had been kind but analytical, how she had gotten his consent before beginning. How he couldn’t forgive her, but couldn’t condemn her either. 

“That’s fucked up,” Ren said. He gave Goro a slight, sly smile. “Is it bad that I’m kinda rooting for you sometimes?” 

“It certainly is,” Goro said, but he couldn’t help returning the smile. 

“Okay.” Ren pulled on his coat and rolled his neck. “Let’s go. And don’t worry about me. I’m sure it will be easier next time.” 

Goro felt something sinking in his chest, weighted with the gravity of his own sins. 

“It will,” he said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to let you all know, it may be a little while before the next update (like a few weeks). This chapter marks the end of Part One, and I want to finish Part Two completely before I start posting it. To give you a sense of length—this will be four parts in total and cover all the way to the end of the Royal story arc.


	10. Your friends are the Phantom Thieves

**be mine, do crimes  
**

**Part II: Throne**

_The name of the most glorious and exalted Thrones denotes that which is exempt from and untainted by any base and earthly thing…_

_—_ selections from Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite, _The Celestial Hierarchy_

**chapter 10: Your friends are the Phantom Thieves**

Spring blended blurrily into summer, the days hot and heavy and humid. Ren switched out his winter uniform for short sleeves, but kept the itchy black pants. 

The Phantom Thieves had changed three hearts since he came to Tokyo—a gym teacher turned royal tyrant, a greedy artist, and a dangerous con man operating out of Shibuya. Both the artist and the con man had ties to Shido, who was very unhappy about the Phantom Thieves’ meteoric rise in popularity. 

Akechi had theories about them, speculating various ways they kept a low profile while pulling off such dramatic heists. Ren tried not to listen to those, because they always started with the sentence: “Your friends are the Phantom Thieves.” 

And that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? 

_If they were the Phantom Thieves, they would tell me._

So he ignored Akechi’s ramblings and did his best to avoid thinking about it too hard. Because it was a pretty strange coincidence that that exact group be drawn together. Ryuji, Ann and Makoto, each with their own grudge against Kamoshida. Yusuke, who was closer to Madarame than anyone. And Kasumi, who had been bullied into debt by Kaneshiro’s thugs, and only escaped it because of his change of heart. And if Makoto’s cat could talk and no one outside their group could understand it, well… 

There could be a lot of explanations for that. But even so, Ren never let on that he understood Morgana. Just in case. 

It wasn’t like Ren was in a position to judge them even if it were true. Because in the past five months, he’d helped Akechi cause six mental shutdowns.

In the Metaverse they were unstoppable—Joker and Crow, passing the baton and inflicting critical hits, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. It was intoxicating to fight next to Akechi, to feel his chaotic energy burst forth, and to complement it with Ren’s own smooth, agile attacks. 

They hadn’t crossed paths with the Thieves in the Metaverse, at least not yet. Ren was glad. If his friends really were the Phantom Thieves, he just wanted to leave them alone to do their work. Their way was a lot better than Akechi’s way, no matter what Akechi said about it. 

Tonight, like a lot of nights, Akechi was expounding on the morality of changing a heart. After several glasses of whiskey, he was less eloquent than usual, verbally sparring rather than ruthlessly eviscerating Ren’s arguments. 

“If the Phantom Thieves ever come for me, just shoot me, won’t you?” Akechi drawled. “I’d rather be dead than brainwashed.” 

But Akechi didn’t have a Palace. Ren wasn’t proud of himself, but after the third mental shutdown, which happened around the time the news about Kaneshiro hit, he’d checked. Thinking maybe, just maybe, if his friends _were_ the Phantom Thieves, they could help him change Akechi’s heart.

He had checked his own name as well. Just to be sure. 

“I dunno,” Ren said, sprawled across the couch while Akechi sat in a kitchen chair, ostensibly doing homework. How he did calculus while drunk was beyond Ren. “Maybe you’d be nicer to me if they changed your heart.” 

“I don’t like being controlled,” Akechi said imperiously. 

_Then why don’t you tell Shido to fuck off?_

But Ren knew better than to raise that topic. Last time he’d tried, Akechi hadn’t spoken to him for a week. The terse silence that filled their house had not only been uncomfortable and awkward, but had made him realize just how much he liked Akechi’s company. How he craved Akechi’s smile and the sound of his laugh. 

“I could be nicer to you,” Akechi said. “Is that what you want? The charming Detective Prince?” 

His words were filled with cold mockery—not for Ren but for himself. 

“Of course not,” Ren said. “But maybe you could let me win an argument once in a while.” 

Akechi rolled his eyes, turning back to his calculus homework. “You’re the only person I don’t lie to. Don’t ask me to start.” 

Ren was glad Akechi was looking away and couldn’t see his stupid grin. He liked knowing that he was special to Akechi in some way, even if it wasn’t the same way that Akechi was special to him. 


	11. #DetectiveAkechi

Goro liked coming home. One of the things he demanded, when he was seventeen and re-negotiated the terms of his contract with Shido, was a house rather than an apartment. He was tired of dingy hallways with rows of identical doors, music and arguments spilling through the walls from his careless neighbors. 

Yongen-Jaya was quiet, out of the way, and most inhabitants studiously minded their own business even when they did recognize him. 

After growing up in child institutions, sharing small dormitory rooms with eight to ten other boys, he’d come to appreciate silence and privacy, maybe a little too much. But Shido refused to pay for an apartment for Ren when Goro clearly had “plenty of space” to house another of his lackeys. 

He’d thought it would be intolerable, but they’d been living together for nearly five months and he had to admit it wasn’t all that bad. It could even be nice, coming home to someone. 

Goro set his briefcase on his dresser, changed out of his interview clothes and hung them to be taken for dry cleaning, and pulled on a pair of worn sweats to watch the airing of the show he’d done that afternoon. 

Over time, he’d developed the ability to watch himself with a keen, analytical eye, discarding vanity in service of ruthless practicality. It involved watching the reactions of others as much or more than he watched himself. 

It had taken him a long while to get here and, as much as he hated to admit it, Shido’s help had been essential. At fifteen, when he first made cautious contact with Shido, he had been a ragged scrap of a child, buffeted this way and that by rage and fear in equal measure. He had been utterly unaware of the world, had never been to a restaurant, had never bought an item of clothing, had never been allowed to go anywhere except to leave for school and return to the institution afterwards.

But Goro had always been clever. He learned how to speak properly, how to choose the right clothing for himself, how to adapt to trends and charm adults. Where once he’d had to fight larger children for a share of the communal meal, now he had a fucking food blog. It was almost absurd. 

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his social media while he waited for the show to start. There was nothing that required a response—he didn’t tend to be all that interactive. But he liked to know what people were saying. Their emojis and likes and hashtags were all pieces of information he could use to get better at what he did. 

The theme music pulled his attention to the TV, and he watched carefully as the image of himself onscreen answered the interviewer, clever and sweet, flustered by the attention but never by the questions. He listened to the timbre of his voice, which he had learned to change early on, because his actual voice made him sound, in the memorable words of one of his teachers, “like a psychopath.” 

Goro’s entire personality was manufactured. He had studied idols and adults, had made note of their mannerisms and the things they talked about. Layering that disguise over the molten rage that burned at his core had been no easy task. 

“Hey, you’re back.” Ren flopped down on the other side of the couch, always so at ease with himself and the world. Slick, stylish Arsene suited him more than he knew. 

He wasn’t sure when “Amamiya” became “Ren,” but it would have felt strange to call him anything else, now. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Goro said. It was a running joke between them, and it never failed to get a snicker out of Ren. 

“You’ve been out awfully late.” Ren turned to the talk show, watching TV Goro’s startled face as the interviewer asked a question about his love life. 

_ “To be honest, between my detective work and my schoolwork, I haven’t given it much thought,” TV Goro said.  _

_ “Oh, come now.” The interviewer leaned forward with a sly smile. “At least tell us what your type is. Girls everywhere are dying to know.”  _

_ “Hmm.” Goro pretended to think it over, like he didn’t already have a canned answer to this drearily common question. “I suppose it would have to be someone with a good heart. Someone who shares my interests, hopefully. And of course, she has to love sweets!”  _

_ The audience laughed like the sycophants they were.  _

“She has to love sweets?” Ren snorted. “Why do you even do this shit?” 

Goro did know why, deep down. His perceptiveness was not limited to other people’s faults. But he wasn’t about to tell Ren that for the first fifteen years of his life, he’d been unwanted, worthless, a dirty scandal that killed his own mother. Ren knew the basic facts of Goro’s origins, but he didn’t need to know the emotional beats, the disgusting details, the distortions it left on his psyche. 

To be wanted, to be loved, even if it was as shallow as the adoration of his fans… Well, it was the best someone like Goro could hope for. 

“It’s useful to Shido,” is what he finally said. “I help sway public opinion.” 

“Huh. I guess that kinda makes sense. Hey, did you eat yet?” Ren asked, getting up. “I didn’t think you would, so I brought you some curry from that place down the street.” 

“LeBlanc?” Goro raised an eyebrow. He didn’t go there often himself—Sakura was a gruff, unpersonable reminder of Wakaba Isshiki, and he didn’t enjoy being reminded of his time with her. Of what Shido made him do to her. 

_ Take responsibility,  _ he told himself.  _ I held the gun. I pulled the trigger. I’m the one who destroyed Futaba’s life.  _

He’d never met the real Futaba, of course. But Isshiki’s cognitive version of Futaba had been his playmate for the short, happy period between discovering the Metaverse and finding out why they wanted him to use it. 

That Futaba had died with her mother, and from the reports of it, the real Futaba may as well have too, given how well she was coping. 

“Yeah.” Ren grinned. “Their curry is incredible. Let me heat it up for you.” 

“That’s not necessary. I can do it myself.” 

But Ren was already in the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge for two takeout boxes. He heated them both and set them on the table opposite each other. 

“You haven’t eaten either?” 

“Waiting for you.” Ren plopped down in a dining chair. “Now I’m starving. C’mon.” 

Goro sat opposite him and took a cautious bite of curry. It was surprisingly good, especially given LeBlanc’s run down state. 

“We’ll have to go there sometime,” Ren said. “This is even better when you have it with Boss’s coffee.” 

“Boss?” 

“The guy who runs it.” Ren shrugged. “That’s what everyone calls him.” 

“I see…” 

After dinner, they did their homework, notes and textbooks spread across the table. Or rather, Goro did his homework and Ren folded paper footballs and launched them at Goro with deft flicks of his fingers. 

_ How in hell is he an honor student?  _

Goro picked up one of the folded pieces of paper and after a careful moment to aim, let it fly. It hit Ren right between the eyes. 

“Ack!” Ren clutched his forehead and flailed, pretending to be wounded. “My third eye. You monster!” 

Goro laughed despite himself. 

“That’s a different smile,” Ren said, smirking. 

Goro felt something within him freeze up. His smile was perhaps the most telling part of who he had once been, who he truly was. It had a cruel edge to it which frightened people, sharp and brilliant as a knife. He didn’t want Ren to see it. He didn’t want  _ anyone  _ to see it. If he ruined their partnership because he couldn’t control his facial expressions the way he’d practiced since he was—

“I like it,” Ren said, and his gaze was softer now, almost fond. “I like it better than the TV smile.” 

For the first time in a long time, Goro couldn’t think of a single clever thing to say.


	12. russian roulette with a loaded gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a brief mention of a dubcon relationship between an adult and a minor
> 
> Some minor timeline changes have been made for this AU, like the TV station field trip date.

The TV studio trip was chaos, rowdy Shujin students clambering around the set, laughing and joking. The receptionist was giving a very boring lecture, but Ren knew that Akechi was here somewhere, getting ready for his talk show appearance. Ren’s class was supposed to make up a portion of the audience. 

It was easy enough for Ren to slip away from the group and make his way backstage. There was a moment of tension when it seemed like the security guard might turn at the wrong moment and see him sneak past, but then Ryuji’s voice came booming from behind the cameras, pulling the guard’s attention away. 

Down a brightly lit hallway were several red doors marked with the names of the most prominent newscasters, and a few that were reserved for guests. The furthest door was slightly ajar, and angry voices spilled out into the hall. 

Ren crept closer. 

“Don’t you dare,” Goro was saying, in that low, cold tone he only got when he was murderously angry. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’m not your  _ victim _ .” 

“You were little more than a child.” A man’s voice, vaguely familiar. “As old as my daughter is now. And when I think of that...and what I did...” 

“Do you think I care?” Goro laughed, wild and fierce. “I don’t think of you at all. You’re nothing but a tool too stupid to see who is using you.” 

“This isn’t about Shido. I’m just trying to make things right. Goro, I—”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” 

At the sound of a scuffle, Ren inched closer so he could peer through the thin strip where the door had been left slightly open. 

It was Yoshizawa-san, Kasumi’s dad. Akechi had him pinned to the wall, a small knife resting at the base of his throat. 

Ren had seen Akechi slaughter shadows in the Metaverse while laughing, had seen him hold the gun to a shadow’s head and pull the trigger without hesitation. But even at his most manic, he was always in control. 

Right now, he wasn’t. And that meant he was more dangerous than Ren had ever seen him. 

“Hey.” Ren pushed open the door before he could stop to think. “Akechi. Now’s not the time.” 

Akechi’s eyes widened. He was furious, and barely bothering to hide it. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Let him go.” Ren walked closer, pretending not to be alarmed by the way Akechi’s left hand was trembling. “I’m your friend, remember? We have a job to do together. We have a goal.” 

Akechi looked at him for a long moment, and then finally pulled the knife away and released Yoshizawa. 

“Get the hell out of here,” he spat.

“You need to be on camera in fifteen minutes,” Yoshizawa said, and hurried away. 

Akechi watched him go, his eyes cynical and oddly vacant, like that fury had swept through him and burned everything else to ash. 

“Hey,” Ren said. “You need to calm down before you go out there.” 

Akechi turned that eerily hollow gaze on him, but said nothing. Ren’s brow furrowed with worry. If Akechi went out there like that, all of Japan would know there was something wrong with him. He wanted to ask what the hell all that had been about, but could tell this wasn’t the right time, and in fact there would probably never be a good time to bring it up. Not if it made Akechi look like this.

_ What do I do? How do I bring him back?  _

“Akechi,” Ren said. “I have a puzzle for you.” 

He was answered by silence, but at least he had Akechi’s attention. 

“We’re playing Russian Roulette with a six-shooter, and there’s one bullet in the chamber. The rest are empty.”

Akechi raised an eyebrow, but remained quiet. 

“You put it to my head and shoot me, but it just clicks. No bullet.” Ren pressed his finger to his temple, mimed pulling the trigger. “Now I have it pointed at you. Do you tell me to spin the chamber again or not?” 

“Yes.” Akechi gave Ren a ghost of his usual sardonic smile. “If you spin it, I have a one in six chance of getting my brains blown out. If you don’t, the chance is one in five.” 

He got up and leaned in towards the mirror, brushing a stray lock of hair back into place. 

“That’s too easy,” he said, frowning at his reflection. “Find a harder riddle next time. And what are you even doing here?” 

Ren did his best to hide his relief. “Second years get a field trip to a TV station. I heard you were gonna be on, so I snuck back here to see if I could find you.” 

“You’re such a delinquent,” Akechi said, but his smile was bordering on fond. 

“Says the murderer,” Ren replied, but there was fondness there too. 

“Well. You’d better get back to your class if you want a seat in the audience,” Akechi chided him. “Try not to be too disruptive.” 

—

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about the Phantom Thieves, Ren-senpai,” Kasumi said, smiling up at him after the show taping was finished. Ren had argued with Akechi on camera, saying the Phantom Thieves were just and he supported their actions.

His certainty made her feel good. Sometimes it felt like everyone was against the Thieves, especially since Medjed’s threat had the general public running scared. But Kasumi trusted Futaba when she said she’d take care of it. Soon everyone would see the Phantom Thieves were agents of justice. 

Kasumi was glad that she got to come on the second years’ field trip, since her gymnastics meet was on the same day as the first years’ trip. It was more fun when Ren, Ann, and Ryuji were around. Everyone else at Shujin was too jealous of her special privileges, even though she really wasn’t trying to show anyone up. She was glad that she had the other Phantom Thieves to keep her company—before she joined them she had been so alone.

“I think the Phantom Thieves are interesting,” Ren said. His eyes kept flicking towards the stage, where Akechi was talking with the interviewer off to the side of the set. 

“I do too,” Kasumi admitted, before remembering Makoto’s instructions to act like she didn’t care about or support the Phantom Thieves. 

“Hello, Yoshizawa-san.” Akechi gave her a polite, friendly smile. It was all surface, shellac, nothing substantial beneath it. And then he turned to Ren, and although his expression never changed, it seemed to mean something else entirely. 

“Yo,” Ren said. “Good job up there.” 

“I could say the same to you.” Akechi’s smile was privately amused, a joke only he and Ren were in on. 

Ren shrugged slightly. “I just said what I think.” 

“I see.” Akechi’s gaze sharpened, landing on Kasumi. “And what do you think of the Phantom Thieves, Yoshizawa-san?”

Kasumi gave him a cheerful smile and told him the answer Makoto helped her to prepare. “I think people should rely on themselves, rather than waiting for someone to come save them.” 

“An interesting point of view,” Akechi said. 

“I don’t think any of us can save ourselves,” Ren said, and he was looking at Akechi. “Not without help.” 

“Then we’re all fucked.” Akechi gave them another painted-on smile, a bright expression that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d better go. It was nice to talk to you, Yoshizawa-san.” 

Ren watched him go, frowning thoughtfully. 

“Hey, we’re all gonna get a bite to eat,” Ryuji said, joining them. His uniform was out of compliance as usual, a bright red T-shirt with a flashy design. The teachers were tired of scolding him for the way he dressed—they’d pretty much given up on him entirely. 

“Do you want to join us, Ren?” Ann asked. 

“Sure,” Ren said easily, pulling his eyes away from Akechi’s retreating form. “Where are we going?” 

“We’re meeting Makoto and Yusuke in Dome Town,” Ryuji said. “C’mon, we’re getting sushi.” 

“Conveyor belt only,” Ann said, “but it will still be good.” 

The meal was an informal celebration of sorts. The threat of Medjed, which had been hanging over their heads for a month, was about to be lifted. At least, it would be if Futaba was telling the truth—and Kasumi was sure that she was. 

All of them—the Phantom Thieves and Ren—crowded into a booth in the small sushi restaurant. It was full of people this time of day, the chatter of the other diners filling the air. 

“Fatty tuna for me!” Morgana declared, sticking his head out of Makoto’s bag. 

Ren glanced at Morgana, raising an eyebrow. “Your cat meows a lot.” 

Kasumi laughed nervously. They all knew Ren could understand Morgana—he’d slipped up one day, saying that he’d overheard someone talking about pancakes in the classroom after class was over. But the only person who had said anything was Morgana. 

So Ren understood their talking cat, something only people who’d been to the Metaverse could do. But he didn’t know that the Thieves knew his secret, which made things really awkward since he was a good friend to all of them. He’d helped Ryuji deal with the track team, supported Ann while she tried to be a good friend to Shiho, comforted Yusuke when he was dealing with art block, helped Makoto protect a friend from a devious host, and encouraged Kasumi to pursue her gymnastics with renewed enthusiasm. 

Even so, he was suspicious. The fact that he kept his knowledge secret from them meant they also had to keep secrets from him. 

Kasumi hated it. 

“I think Morgana wants tuna,” Ann said, and set a piece in front of the cat. 

“You spoil him,” Makoto said, but she sounded distracted. 

Kasumi felt something brush her hand, and looked down to see Makoto’s fingers, reaching for hers under the table. Makoto was looking away, blushing. 

Kasumi’s heart raced as she intertwined their fingers. Makoto had kissed her the day before, just once, a chaste brush of her lips that had thrilled and warmed Kasumi to her core. She didn’t know exactly what it meant, if Makoto wanted to be her girlfriend or not. But she trusted Makoto with her life in the Metaverse, and with her heart in the real world. Makoto was their leader, the rock they all relied on, and her unique powers in the Metaverse were the reason they were all still alive and had succeeded in changing hearts. 

“Here,” Ren said, putting a piece of salmon on Morgana’s plate. “A bribe, so he’ll like me.” 

“We all like you,” Ryuji said, putting his arm around Ren’s shoulders and grinning. “Even the cat.” 

“I’m not a cat,” Morgana protested. 

“It’s true,” Ann said. “We do all like you, Ren.” 

Kasumi wished that Ren would come clean with them, or that they could tell him what they knew. She hated lying to her best friend, and she hated the weird feeling she had that they were being set up for an inevitable conflict by forces entirely outside of their control. 


	13. you are collateral damage

Goro hesitated outside of Shido’s door for just a second. A pathetic but unavoidable moment of weakness. 

The news of Medjed’s fall had just hit. Shido was going to be pissed.

Goro knew this—it was the reason he’d made up an excuse and left Ren at home. 

He knocked on the door and heard Shido’s irritable voice calling him inside. 

“You asked for me?” Goro said, shutting the door behind him and approaching Shido. “I’m guessing you’ve heard the news.” 

“How in hell did it fail?” Shido asked, slamming his hand down on the desk. The ice cubes in his drink clinked together at the impact. 

“I don’t know,” Goro said. Why the fuck are you asking me? 

“They must have someone with the skills to take our team down.” Shido scowled. “You’re a detective, aren’t you? I thought you were supposed to be handling this.” 

“I’m investigating it.” Goro took a deep breath and willed himself to stay calm despite the rage pulsing in his core. “It’s not exactly easy framing someone who can use the Metaverse. As you well know.” 

“Don’t get smart with me,” Shido growled. 

He raised his hand and Goro tensed, forcing himself to remain still when his instincts told him to defend himself. Shido’s fist connected with Goro’s jaw and Goro stumbled slightly with the force of the impact, but stayed upright. 

He wouldn’t give Shido the satisfaction of showing any weakness. Instead, he met Shido’s gaze with his most condescending glare. 

“Are you quite done?” he said, tasting blood. “Because I have a plan. And if you knock my teeth out, I’m not going to tell you.” 

Shido’s hands were still balled into fists, but he nodded tersely. 

“We choose the next victim,” Goro said. “Manipulate them into going after someone of our choice. They send the calling card. And then, when the nation’s eyes are on them, I will cause a mental shutdown in the target.” 

“I see.” Shido was quiet for a moment, thinking. “That’s good. You’re clever, Goro. I appreciate that about you.” 

Goro closed his eyes for a moment, forcing down the yearning crawling up his throat at his father’s praise. It was a weakness, and he could not afford to have weaknesses, not now. 

“You have a way to convince them which target to take on next?” 

“I do. But I’ll need your hacking team.” 

“They’ll be at your disposal,” Shido said. “Come here, Goro.” 

Goro approached slowly, cautiously. Shido took him by the chin and turned his face to examine the painful bruise that was probably rapidly forming. 

“I’m sorry,” Shido said, and put his hand on Goro’s shoulder. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I suppose it’s starting to get to me.” 

Goro looked away. 

_I hate you. I HATE you._

But that didn’t explain the way his chest ached with loneliness and longing when Shido smiled fondly at him. 

“Come on, I’ll make it up to you,” Shido cajoled. “We’ll go fishing, just like we used to before I got so busy with all of this.” 

“I’d....like that,” Goro said, because all he’d wanted for the first fifteen years of his life was for his father to take him somewhere and spend time with him. 

Finally, Shido had. And then he’d asked Goro for favors Goro couldn’t possibly refuse. 

_Someday I’ll make you acknowledge me._

“Good. And well done on the latest...incident.” Shido smiled viciously. “The bus driver killed six people. Including our “undesirable” friend on that jury.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Goro said. 

“The collateral damage was...unfortunate.” Shido walked to the bar and poured himself another glass of whiskey. “Two children, this time. Such a tragedy.” 

Goro kept his face impassive, but his stomach roiled and his hands clenched into tight, trembling fists. 

“It changes you, doesn’t it?” Shido leaned against the tall window behind him, the city swimmingly far below. “You’re so much like me, Goro. Rotten all the way to the core. It’s only men like us who can do the hard things, the impossible things, in service of the greater good.” 

_I am nothing like you._

Goro smiled as though he’d been given a compliment, forced his fingers to uncurl and hang relaxed at his sides. 

“They were eight years old and six years old,” Shido said, glancing out at the city. “The little girls who died in that accident.” 

“Tragic,” Goro said. It took all his willpower to force his voice to stay even. 

“Indeed.” Shido gave him a meaningful look. “You and I have sacrificed so much to make this dream happen. But if we persevere, we will be richly rewarded.” 

Goro nodded. “I know.” 

“Good,” Shido said, shifting gears. “Now get going. I have to take a call. I’ll let the hacking team know you’re giving the orders for now.” 

“I appreciate it.” Goro bowed deeply and walked out of the office feeling like his chest might burst with all the emotions bubbling up inside him. 

He hated Shido. He wanted Shido to die a painful, humiliating death. He did. 

_Then why haven’t you killed him yet? Why are you making his depraved desires come true?_

Goro walked out into the sunshine, warm on his face. People hurried up and down the street, talking and laughing together. Their joy made him feel sick with anger. How little they knew of the world. They would be shocked and dismayed to learn the disgusting truth—that everything around them was made of desire and distortion, nothing more. 

There was only one solution for the kind of poisonous rage festering in Goro’s chest. He opened up the phone and started the Nav. 

“Diet Building. Masayoshi Shido. Ship.” 


	14. deal me a wild card

Goro laid on his back on the front deck of Shido’s ship, watching the red sky shift overhead. The wound in his gut only caused him mild agony if he held still and tried not to breathe too much. 

“You need help,” Justine scolded from her place by the blue door. But she made no move to offer her assistance. 

“I’m fine,” Goro said, then coughed up something that left a suspicious dark stain on the sleeve of his costume. 

“Don’t lie to me!” Justine actually sounded frightened, her little hands clasped before her. 

“Pitiful child,” Caroline muttered. “We can do nothing for you.” 

“We could go get the other one,” Justine said thoughtfully. 

“Is it allowed? He hasn’t even been to the Velvet Room yet.”

“There are ways, still.” 

“I’m not a child,” Goro muttered, but the twins ignored him. The world was starting to get darker, fuzzy at the edges. It was late, and Goro should be getting home, but first he thought he’d just lie here a little longer. Just rest for a few minutes. Just…

“Akechi!” 

Goro’s eyes fluttered open. He had no sense of how much time had passed, only that Ren was running towards him, kneeling at his side with wide-eyed concern behind his elegant mask. 

“Hey, look at me,” Ren said, gently prying away Goro’s hand—sticky with some kind of hot liquid—to examine the wound on his side. “Shit, shit, Akechi don’t close your eyes!” 

He looked as panicked as Goro had ever seen him, all for some trash who was bleeding out on the filthy concrete. It was almost funny. 

“Where’s the medicine bag?” Ren’s hands were at his belt, checking for anything remaining in their stores of healing items. 

“I didn’t bring it,” Goro said. His words were accompanied by a cough that sprayed blood across Ren’s coat. 

“What?” Ren’s hands came to rest on Goro’s shoulders, clutching him desperately. “Why...I can’t help you like this. I don’t—I can’t—” 

“ _ Be calm _ ,  _ Trickster, _ ” Arsene said, materializing beside Ren in all his stylish glory. “ _ I am thou, thou art I. Yet I am willing to share the stage _ .” 

“Share the stage?” Ren whispered. “I don’t understand…” 

And then his eyes widened in realization. 

“ _ You see it, don’t you? _ ” As quickly as he’d appeared, Arsene faded away. Goro’s vision blurred, and he wondered if he was hallucinating the whole encounter. 

“Come, Pixie!” Ren glowed with a soothing blue light, whispering to himself. “Dia.” And again, stronger. “Dia. Dia!” 

A cool wave washed over Goro, sweeping away the pain so quickly he could barely breathe with the intensity of the relief. He sat up, gasping for air, and examined the large tear in his outfit. 

_ Nothing. Not even a scar.  _

Behind Ren, a large Pixie was slowly fading away. Goro remembered, vaguely, Ren talking to a Pixie during their last excursion to Mementos, but had thought nothing of it. Ren could make friends with anything that was at least vaguely sentient, after all. 

“How did you do that?” Goro asked. His voice was hoarse, his body sore but otherwise intact. 

“What the  _ hell,  _ Akechi?” Ren glared at him, eyes bright and shimmering. “I thought you were going to die.” 

“I may have...miscalculated,” Goro admitted. “It won’t happen again.” 

“If it was dangerous, why didn’t you take me with you?” 

Goro sighed, getting to his feet. He was exhausted, worn thin by the ordeal. It hadn’t been ...bad, necessarily, to be so close to death. He’d been afraid to die, of course, but felt more relief than fear when it was actually an imminent possibility. 

“You would have protected me.” Goro shrugged his shoulders a few times, trying to work the tension out. “Sometimes I want to get hit.” 

“ _ What? _ ” 

Goro hit the button on the Nav to return them to reality rather than answer. 


	15. only those who have signed a contract

Ren woke to the sound of swinging chains, eerie music drifting in from somewhere far away. He was on a hard wooden cot, in a room filled with strange blue light. Slowly, he pushed himself up and looked around. 

He was in some kind of prison cell. And he wasn’t alone. On the cot across from him, Akechi was lying unnaturally still, a ring of bruises around his neck and his face painted in deathly pallor. 

Ren lunged across their shared cell space and leaned over Akechi, reaching for his wrist and checking for a pulse. 

“Hey, Inmate!” A little girl in a prison guard’s uniform smacked her baton against her palm. “Aren’t you going to greet our master properly?” 

Ren turned to her, Akechi’s wrist still clasped in his hand. “What...what is this place?” 

“Welcome to the Velvet Room.” A man with a bizarrely long nose folded his hands under his rotund chin and smiled. “It is good to make your acquaintance, Trickster. My name is Igor. These two wardens are Caroline and Justine.” 

“What happened to Akechi?” Ren asked. 

“To strengthen a Persona, certain sacrifices must be made,” Justine said softly. 

“He does it of his own free will, inmate.” Caroline put her hands on her hips and scowled at Ren. “That’s just what his contract says.” 

“Contract?” 

“Your cellmate will survive,” Igor said. His voice had an odd resonance that rumbled in Ren’s bones. “Fear not. His death in this place is very real, but not so...ah, permanent.” 

“Don’t get distracted.” Caroline hit her baton against the bars of the cell door. “You’re here for a reason.” 

What followed was one of the strangest experiences of Ren’s life—and he’d had some weird shit happen. They dragged the Personas he’d gathered out of his psyche and let them take form in the strange blue room. Then Caroline and Justine slaughtered them, merging some, jolting others with electricity until they calcified into items, and sacrificing yet more to strengthen the survivors. 

When it was done, Ren was beyond exhausted. He sat, slumped over, by Akechi’s silent form. 

He brushed a lock of hair out of Akechi’s face, trailing his fingertips over Akechi’s cheekbone. Akechi looked different like this, gaunt and weary with dark circles beneath his eyes. Ren was overcome by the urge to lean over and kiss Akechi’s forehead, and because he was in some liminal twilight space between dreams and the waking world, he did. 

Akechi’s skin was cold beneath his lips, slightly damp in the humid air. 

“Please take care of him, inmate.” Justine stood outside the bar, studying him with her head tilted to one side. 

“I’ll try,” Ren said, turning towards her. “I just wish I knew how to be what he needs.” 

“You were made to suit each other,” Igor said. “All you must do is be yourself.” 

“Quit being so sappy, inmate.” Caroline frowned disapprovingly at him. “Isn’t it time for you to go back? Close your eyes.” 

Ren obeyed. 

Ren went to LeBlanc for breakfast regularly. This early in the day, he was usually the only person there. But today a girl with long orange hair was at the counter wolfing down a plate of curry like she hadn’t eaten in days. When she caught sight of him, she squeaked and ran up the stairs, leaving her meal behind. 

Sojiro sighed, watching her go. “Futaba,” he called out. “Come back down.” 

“Um. Sorry?” Ren said, lingering in the doorway. 

“Ah, it’s okay.” Despite the chaos, Sojiro looked happier than Ren had ever seen him, like that heavy cloak of sorrow he usually wore had been lifted. “You want some breakfast?” 

“If you’re sure I’m not imposing,” Ren said. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sojiro stepped into the kitchen and began cooking. “You’re always welcome here.” 

“Thanks.” 

Ren scrolled pensively through social media feeds on his phone—pictures of Akechi popping up as he did so. He didn’t follow any fan blogs, but he did follow Akechi’s socials even though there was really no reason to. He’d taken most of the pictures on Akechi’s Instagram, after all, and enjoyed being Akechi’s photographer despite his ruthless perfectionism. 

He always liked scrolling through the feed and remembering the half second before the shutter clicked, the way Akechi’s entire countenance would change, a shark becoming a goldfish through sheer force of will. 

_ “They were so young and full of life.”  _

A woman’s voice, shaky and tearful, came from the TV, drawing Ren’s attention. 

_ “That was Yua Tanaka, the mother of the two girls who died in the lastest of what people are calling “psychotic breakdown” incidents. In this case, a bus driver caused a rampage of destruction and several fatalities,”  _ the new announcer intoned solemnly. 

Ren looked up at the screen, thinking. Maybe when he was in that strange Velvet Room, he should have asked that weird old man about the other Metaverse user, the one causing the psychotic breakdowns. 

It wasn’t any of the Phantom Thieves—he was sure of that. But someone else was using the Metaverse, and whoever it was must have had an ability like Akechi’s, but instead of driving himself berserk, as Akechi sometimes did, the mystery person could do it to others. 

It made Ren nervous to think there was someone else in the Metaverse, someone none of them could account for. 

He sighed, setting his phone aside when Sojiro placed his breakfast on the bar. 

“Thanks,” he said. “This smells amazing.” 

“Sure thing,” Sojiro said. If he was concerned about the girl hiding in the attic, he gave no indication, so Ren assumed there was nothing to worry about. 

“You seem pensive,” Sojiro said, wiping down the far end of the bar while Ren ate. “Girl troubles?” 

Ren laughed. “Roommate troubles.” 

“Even worse.” Sojiro gave him a wry smile. “You live with that preppy kid, right?”

The corner of Ren’s mouth twitched when he imagined what Akechi would think if he knew Sojiro called him “that preppy kid.” 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“He seems like a handful,” Sojiro said mildly. 

“He is,” Ren said. “I caught him doing something stupid and self destructive. Now he’s avoiding me so we won’t have to have a conversation about it.” 

“I see.” Sojiro stroked his goatee thoughtfully. “Sounds like a tough situation.” 

“Yeah.” Ren took a sip of his coffee and felt warmed all the way through to his toes. “I’m worried about him.” 

“If I could give you a piece of advice.” Sojiro leaned on the bar, looking oddly intent. “Talk to him. If you really care about him, don’t stop until you get through to him.” 

Ren nodded, and Sojiro chuckled, turning away to fiddle with the jars of coffee beans. 

“But what do I know,” Sojiro said, almost sheepishly. “I just make the coffee.” 

Ren took a cup of Sojiro’s coffee back to the house, hoping it would serve as a kind of peace offering. 

Akechi was in the kitchen, case files spread in front of him while he typed something on his laptop. He glanced at Ren, but didn’t smile. 

This tension between them was new, and it was partly Ren’s fault. Because when Akechi was bleeding out onto the deck of that disgusting ship, Ren had realized something. 

What he felt for Akechi wasn’t just camaraderie or friendship, or the bond of their shared abilities and mission. It was all that and more. 

Ren was in love with Akechi, and he had no idea what to do about it. Every moment they were together he felt it in his chest, the same kind of power and passion that had birthed Arsene, but sweeter and urgent. 

He wanted to tell Akechi how he felt, but he knew it was a stupid idea. There was no chance Akechi felt the same way, and every chance he would see it as foolishness, pathetic and pitiable. 

Ren set the coffee down beside Akechi’s laptop and got a brief smile and murmured thanks in return. 

“Hey,” he said, settling in the chair beside Akechi. “I wanted to talk about what happened yesterday.” 

The fondness in Akechi’s expression disappeared as though it had never been there at all. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Akechi said coldly. He stood up and began gathering his papers. “It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t think either of those things are true,” Ren said. 

“This discussion is over.” Case files held haphazardly in his arms, Akechi disappeared down the hallway, leaving his still steaming LeBlanc coffee behind. 


	16. public adoration, private affection

Goro should have known he couldn’t evade Ren forever. But for the past few days he’d managed to avoid Ren’s inevitable questions and irritating concern by coming home past midnight and leaving at dawn. 

He thought he’d accomplished it yet again when he snuck in at two a.m. on a Tuesday morning and found the house quiet and dark. But when he flicked on the lights in his bedroom, he realized he had been outfoxed by that infuriating boy yet again, because Ren was on his bed. Fully dressed, on top of the covers, fast asleep with his phone in his hand. 

It was not even a little bit cute.  _ Not at all.  _

“If you’re trying to seduce me, you’re not doing a very good job,” Goro announced, setting his briefcase on the dresser. 

Ren opened his eyes and smiled softly at Goro. 

“Hey.” His voice was low and sleepy. “You’re back awfully late. I was getting lonely.”

Goro couldn’t tell if he was being serious or just playing their usual joke. 

“Seriously, though.” Ren sat up, but made no move to leave. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“How clever of you to notice.” Goro narrowed his eyes. “What I do with my time isn’t any of your business. I don’t owe you anything. If you think—”

“You’re afraid,” Ren said. “You’ll charge blindly into battle in the Metaverse, but you’re too much of a coward to have a conversation with me.” 

Well. That sounded like a clear challenge. Goro bristled at the implication. 

“I am not afraid of you.” 

“Then let’s talk.” Ren patted a spot beside him on the bed. “C’mon, out with it.” 

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Goro sputtered. “And certainly not in my—”

“Chicken.” 

“What?” Goro’s eyes widened. 

Ren smirked. “I said you’re a chicken.” 

“What are you, ten years old?” Goro snapped, but he was already climbing onto the bed. God fucking damn Amamiya Ren, who knew how to push every single one of his buttons. 

“Maybe.” Ren grinned guilelessly at him. “So. You gonna tell me why you almost died in Mementos last week?” 

Goro was no coward, but he was a realist, and he could tell there was no way out of this situation but to tell the truth. He settled cross legged next to Ren, but didn’t look at him. 

“I’ve never forgotten the face of anyone that I’ve killed,” he said, softly. “I know them all by heart. In my head I can flip through them like the cards to a tarot deck. I know their names, I know the secrets their Shadows told me. I know where they would be now if they weren’t already dead.” 

Ren said nothing, but watched Goro with a gentleness, an openness, that he would not have thought possible. 

“I don’t feel remorse,” Goro said. “But I need to feel  _ something _ . Every once in a while, I need to hurt. Maybe that doesn’t make sense, but I...I can’t change what it is.” 

Goro glanced at Ren, waiting for his cold condemnation. But it didn’t come. Instead, Ren brushed his fingers gently over the back of Goro’s hand, and then, when Goro didn’t shove him away, reached forward and laced their fingers together. 

“I’m really good at saying what I think people want to hear,” Ren said. It sounded like just as much of a confession as Goro’s. “I can think of all the people in my life, line them up like tarot cards, like you said. I know them. I know what they want.” 

“What do you want?” Goro asked, softly. It felt like something was being woven between them, fine and fragile as a spiderweb, tying them together if only they could keep from tearing it apart. 

“I want to be selfish,” Ren said. “I want to tell you what I really think, instead of what I think you want to hear.” 

Goro raised an eyebrow. “And what do you really think?” 

“I think there are parts of you that are horrible and ugly. And I’m glad that you showed them to me.”

“So you can keep your distance?” 

“So you’ll keep me by your side.” Ren tugged, just gently, at their laced-together fingers, but made no move to let go. “That’s where I belong, so don’t go into the Metaverse without me.” 

Goro studied Ren’s face, wondering if he meant it. If he was trying to get something from Goro or if he was the one exception to the entire conniving human race. 

“Why?” he asked. “Why do you give a fuck, Amamiya Ren? No one else in their right mind would.” 

Ren smiled, but it was melancholy, some deep loneliness coming briefly to surface. “If I told you, you’d hate it.” 

Goro raised an eyebrow, and the warm, soft feelings started to drain away. “Because you feel sorry for me? The poor unwanted child who has no one to take care of him?” 

“Of course not,” Ren said, looking plainly miserable. “You’re the strongest, smartest person I know. You have all of Tokyo eating out of the palm of your hand and I’m in love with you just like one of your brainless fans.” 

_ I’m in love with you.  _

Goro stared at him. Of all the things he expected Ren to say to him, that would have been the very last. 

“I’m sorry,” Ren continued, staring down at the bedspread. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. But...I did want you to know, I guess.”

He gave Goro a slight smile, which managed to be both bitter and warmly affectionate. 

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said. 

Goro watched him get up and walk out of the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to offer one last reminder to not go into the Metaverse alone “like an idiot.” And then he was gone, his soft footsteps sounding on the stairs to the attic. 

After a long moment where he waited to see if Ren would come back, Goro turned away, and stepped into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. 

With his hair back in a ponytail, he washed the makeup off his face and stared hard at himself in the mirror. Like this, he looked older, dark circles beneath his eyes and high, angular cheekbones. There was something cold about his features, something cruel in the shape of his mouth. 

He wondered what Ren would think if he woke up to this face instead of the Goro he was used to. 

Goro lay back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. He remembered his mother’s expression, pinched and sorrowful, the men who made promises to her that were broken as soon as the sweet words fell from their lips. He thought of the girl who, six months ago, had found his address and waited on his doorstep with flowers and candy for hours so she could promise him her love and undying devotion. 

He thought of the love letters he kept in a small metal box beneath his mattress, flowery words from Shido to a woman he would eventually destroy. Goro’s mother had cursed Shido’s name every day of her life, but she had never gotten rid of those letters. 

Love was something people gave to others so that they could break them by taking it away. To love was to be held hostage, to compromise, to grovel. 

Goro would not do any of those things. Ren should have known better. 


	17. A sense of place and belonging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note the rating change. E-rated scenes will be marked by a double divider, and then the end of the explicit stuff will be noted by another double divider in case anyone wants to skip it.

**Kasumi:** come on. tell me. tell meeee

 **Kasumi:** what’s the big news? i’m dying of suspense 

**Kasumi:** dyingggg 

**Ren:** I told him I love him

 **Kasumi:** yay! finally!

 **Kasumi:** What did he say?

 **Ren:** nothing. literally, like nothing. he just stared at me until I left 

**Kasumi:** I’m sorry senpai

 **Kasumi:** but I’m proud of you for being honest and going after something you wanted. You’re not selfish enough sometimes 

The stairs creaked softly, and Ren set his phone down as a shadow approached him from the edge of the attic. The lights were off, but out the window the moon was bright and full.

“Akechi,” he said, and a gentle hand pressed over his mouth. 

“Don’t.” Akechi’s voice was grim and his lips were pressed into a thin, tense line. “Don’t say it.” 

Ren didn’t have to ask what it was Akechi didn’t want to hear. He could guess well enough. 

Akechi climbed into the bed and straddled Ren, leaning over him so that his hair fell all around his face. It, and the moon’s pale light, made his expression seem softer than usual. 

“I can’t give you what you want,” he said. “I hope you know that.” 

The words weren’t promising, but Akechi was in his bed, and that made wild hope bubble up in Ren’s chest. 

“What do you think I want?” 

“Someone who loves you. Someone worthy of your love.” 

“Wrong.” Ren smirked. “I want you.”

Akechi leaned in closer, until he was almost in kissing distance. “You can’t fix me, you know.”

“I know,” Ren said. He really did understand that, better than Akechi thought he did. He opened his mouth to explain, but then Akechi was kissing him, and nothing else mattered. 

Akechi was surprisingly good at it too—he’d clearly been kissed before. It was easy enough to get lost in the sensation of Akechi’s tongue against his own, Akechi’s left hand on his neck, thumb brushing over his throat. Hands that were dangerous—deadly—to the rest of the world, but gentle against Ren’s skin. 

“Tell me what you want, Ren.” Akechi’s lips were on his neck now, tracing a line from his throat down to his collarbone. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t do it. I won’t force anything from you that you’re not ready for.” 

“I know,” Ren said. “I trust you.” 

“That was your first mistake, _darling_ ,” Akechi said, with a sinister edge to his voice that made pleasant chills run down Ren’s spine. “You think I have your best interests at heart, when the reality of it is that I don’t have a heart.” 

“Oh yeah?” Ren grinned, flipping them so he was on top, Akechi spread out beneath him. Akechi let him do it without a fight, which was telling enough. “Then how come I can feel your heartbeat?” 

He pressed his palm to Akechi’s chest, warm through his thin shirt.

“Clever boy.” Akechi grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close for another kiss, slow and vicious like Akechi was pulling him apart by the seams but taking his time about it. 

Ren might have been on top, but he was nowhere near being in control. 

* * *

* * *

“Tell me what you want,” Akechi repeated, more sternly this time. 

Ren hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t want this—he did, more than anything. But he wanted Akechi to take it from him with the same kind of chaotic possessiveness he showed when they were in the Metaverse. Ren wanted to offer himself up, to prove the depth of his blind devotion. Akechi would never hurt him, except perhaps in the ways he wanted to be hurt. 

“You can do anything you want to me,” Ren said. “Trust me. I want you to.” 

Akechi studied Ren’s face, and it felt like he understood, at least a little. It wasn’t surprising—he always seemed to be able to intuit what Ren needed.

“Tonight I want to make you feel good,” Akechi said, pushing Ren off of him. “Take off your clothes.” 

Ren got out of the bed to obey, making as much of a show of it as he could. Akechi’s eyes lingered on his exposed skin, bright and unfathomable, so he figured he was doing it right. 

“Good,” Akechi said. “Lie down.” 

Ren did as instructed, lying on his back and looking up as Akechi knelt on the bed, looming over him, still fully dressed. There was something thrillingly erotic about being so exposed, about placing himself at Akechi’s mercy. 

Akechi’s lips trailed from Ren’s jaw down his neck, onto his chest. A wet tongue flicked against his nipple and he gasped at the spike of sensation, hips pressing upward. 

“So sensitive,” Akechi said, and did it again before moving downward. “You’re gorgeous, Ren. You’re everything I could want.” 

Ren wanted to say something in response, to make irresponsible promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. But Akechi licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock, and all that came out was a startled moan. 

Akechi smirked at him, leaning his head against Ren’s thigh. “Do you want something, darling?” 

“Please,” Ren whimpered. 

Akechi didn’t make him wait, but leaned in and took Ren in his mouth. The shock of sensation, hot and wet, nearly sent Ren over the edge right there. His nails dug into the sheets and he struggled to keep his hips from arcing off the bed. He couldn’t stop the desperate, embarrassing sounds that slipped out of his mouth as Akechi moved his head up and down, sucking hard. 

Ren didn’t last long. He tried to warn Akechi when he came, but Akechi didn’t pull off, swallowing everything before letting Ren’s cock slide from his lips. 

Ren watched him in disbelief, wondering if this was all some kind of fantastic dream. Akechi’s lips were slick and red, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire, his hair disheveled where Ren had run his hands into it. 

“I take it you liked that?” The corner of Akechi’s mouth turned up in a sly smile. 

“Yeah.” Ren panted, reaching for him. “C’mere.” 

Akechi let himself be embraced and kissed, and Ren knew he wasn’t as experienced or as graceful, but he tried to make up for it with enthusiasm. 

“I want to blow you,” he murmured into their kisses. “Can I?” 

“If you’re sure,” Akechi said. 

Ren pulled away and off the bed, and Akechi made a soft noise Ren was going to remember for the rest of his life when Ren got on his knees on the attic floor, looking up at Akechi expectantly. 

“C’mon,” Ren said, and although his face was hot with embarrassment, he was determined to get what he wanted. After all, he’d spent a very long time thinking about scenarios just like this. 

He fumbled with Akechi’s belt, but finally got his slacks open and his dick out. It was hard and hot in his palm, and he gave it a few experimental licks that made Akechi whimper endearingly before taking it in his mouth. 

It took a while to get the hang of it, the movement and the rhythm, but just like in the Metaverse, they suited each other perfectly here too. It wasn’t long before Akechi had his hands in Ren’s hair, tugging gently, his whole body trembling. 

Ren paid attention to every movement, every soft sound. When Akechi said his name, low and warning, he pulled off. It only took two more strokes and Akechi was coming across Ren’s face with a ragged groan, his spend warm and slick against Ren’s skin. 

It was even hotter than Ren had thought it would be. He felt like he had been claimed as Akechi’s own, and the idea of being marked, of _belonging,_ made his dick throb and ache, hard again despite his recent release. 

Akechi was staring down at him with wide eyes, the pupils dark and dilated. “If you could see yourself…” he murmured. 

“Yeah?” Ren gave him a crooked grin from his place on the floor. “You like it?” 

“Mmm.” Akechi brushed his thumb over Ren’s lips. “You’re so perfect. Like you were made for me.” 

“Maybe I was,” Ren said playfully, and gently bit the pad of Akechi’s thumb. “Maybe we were made for each other.” 

* * *

* * *

Ren would have liked for Akechi to stay the night, but he knew intimacy with Akechi would have to happen slowly, step by step. So he kissed Akechi goodnight and watched him walk out of the attic with the hope that this was one more wall between them that had now been breached. 

After that, Ren was so wired with happiness and excitement that he slept for all of three hours. By seven, he was wide awake and craving curry. 

He whistled on the way to LeBlanc, his heart as bright and cheery as the morning was humid and foggy. 

Halfway down the back alley, something hit him in the head. 

It was too small to be particularly painful, but had certainly gotten his attention. He leaned down to pick it up—a Featherman figurine posed for combat. 

“Give that back, jerk.” The voice from the narrow window sounded both panicked and angry. 

“You’re the one who threw it at me,” Ren said, but approached the window anyway. It was built for privacy, set high in the wall, so he would have had to stand on tiptoes to see through it. He reached up and set the figurine on the windowsill. 

“You’re the one who sounds so stupidly happy at seven in the morning. It’s annoying.” 

“I can’t help it,” Ren said, leaning against the wall beneath the window. He felt a strange kinship with this weirdo. “I’m in love.” 

“In love?” She sounded disgusted. “Does this person know you whistle like that?” 

Ren chuckled, tapping his fingers against the wall. He was in an unreasonably good mood, and inclined to be charitable. 

“My name’s Amamiya Ren. It’s good to meet you.” 

“Names, huh… You can call me Alibaba.” 

“It’s good to meet you, Alibaba. I’m on my way to get a cup of coffee. Do you want me to bring you anything?” 

“A nice guy, huh?” she muttered. “What’s your angle?” 

“Trying to make friends with the neighbors.” Ren smiled up at the window, even though he couldn’t see through it, and got the distinct feeling that any attempt to do so would be violently unwelcome. 

“I...see.” She was quiet for a moment. “I like cappuccinos. But only if you’re going to LeBlanc.” 

Ren laughed. “Where else would I go?” 

“Ah, Ren, bringer of caffeine!” A hand reached out the window and waved around wildly until it closed around the cup. “You’re my new favorite.” 

“I aim to please.” Ren leaned back against the wall and sipped his own americano. 

“So you’re in love, huh?” There was a distinctly unladylike slurping noise. “”What’s that like?” 

“It’s nice. And terrifying.” 

“I’m...I don’t go out much.” Her words had a hard edge to them, like she wanted to punish herself with them. “Or ever. So I guess I’ll probably never know.” 

“Hard to say.” Ren shrugged, his shoulders pressing back against the rough brick wall of Alibaba’s house. “You might go out someday. Or someone might go in there. You never know.” 

“I guess that’s true…” Alibaba was quiet for a moment. “You’re pretty wise, Ren.”

“That’s what they tell me.” 

“Hey, come by here again sometime,” Alibaba said. “Whistle so I know it’s you.” 

“I will,” Ren promised. 


	18. You charm me like sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if Yusuke and Hifumi can randomly show up in Hawaii, why not Akechi?

It was cool and dry in the hotel lobby, a stark contrast to the warm, humid air just outside the automatic doors. Ren and his classmates had been in Hawaii for almost two days now, lounging around on the beach or playing in the surf. 

“Hey, Mishima and me are gonna go down to the beach and pick up babes.” Ryuji threw his arm over Ren’s shoulder. “The sun’s setting soon, so it’ll be super romantic. Come with us?” 

“Babes?” Ren said, snorting laughter. “Really, Ryuji?” 

“Yeah, really. Here in Hawaii there’s some serious action to be had, if you know what I mean.” 

“Well, Kasumi and I are going for a walk,” Makoto said. There was a slight blush on her cheeks, matched by the flush on Kasumi’s face as the two of them left hand in hand. 

“See, even Makoto’s gettin’ some,” Ryuji whined. “C’mon Ren…” 

Ren missed the rest of Ryuji’s sentence entirely because he caught sight of Akechi, who was watching them from across the hotel lobby with a gaze like the edge of a knife. 

_ What is he doing here?  _

“Hey, ain’t that the famous detective?” Ryuji asked, his face darkening into a scowl. “He’s the one that hates the Phantom Thieves.” 

“Yeah,” Ren murmured absently, barely registering Ryuji’s words. This must be what the fish he caught felt like in their last moments underwater, hooked on the taut line pulling them in. 

“Ace Detective Akechi Goro,” Mishima announced, coming up beside them. “Billed as the second Detective Prince. Enemy number one of the Phantom Thieves.”

Mishima didn’t sound any more fond of Akechi than Ryuji was. In fact, none of the Thieves liked him much, so Ren had never really talked about him, except to Kasumi who he trusted to keep his secrets. 

“Hey, don’t stare at him so much.” Ryuji elbowed Ren. “You’re bein weird.” 

“He’s coming over here,” Mishima squeaked, tensing. But Akechi didn’t even glance at any of them, except Ren. 

Ren cleared his throat. He’d seen Akechi just a few days ago, the night before he flew out to Hawaii for the school trip. Even so, he felt hot all over and clumsy, like a middle schooler with a ridiculous crush. 

“Did you miss me?” Akechi asked, with a sharp, sly smile. 

“Yeah,” Ren said, honestly. He had, even though it hadn’t been all that long. 

“I thought you might.” Akechi’s smile got wider. “And I also thought about how long it’s been since I took a vacation.” 

Ren swallowed. The world around him suddenly smelled sweeter, felt warm and bright and lovely. 

“Wait, you know him?” Ryuji said indignantly, like a friendship with someone who was anti-Phantom Thieves was a betrayal. Maybe it was. 

“Ren lives with me,” Akechi said smoothly, giving Ryuji his best shark’s smile. “I’m surprised he’s never mentioned it.” 

Ren coughed. “It never came up.” 

“Right.” Suspicion flashed in Ryuji’s eyes. It was surprisingly painful to see even a hint of coldness where Ryuji had always been so warm and kind. 

“So I have to ask,” Mishima said, stepping forward. “Do you know any famous actresses?” 

“You seem like you’re busy,” Akechi said to Ren, ignoring Mishima entirely. “If you like, I can get out of your hair.” 

“No,” Ren said quickly. “I’m not busy.” 

“What?” Ryuji frowned at him. “You’re gonna blow us off for this asshole?” 

“I’m standing right here,” Akechi drawled, smirking like he’d figured out just how to bait Ryuji. 

“We’ve all heard you on TV,  _ asshole, _ ” Ryuji said, drawing himself up to his full height. When he wasn’t slouching and making himself small, he could be an imposing presence. 

But of course Akechi wasn’t one to be intimidated. “You seem very invested in my views on the Phantom Thieves, Sakamato,” he said, cool and condescending. “I wonder why that would be.” 

Ren closed his eyes and wished fervently to be somewhere else. 

“Cause I believe in justice for shitty adults who hurt people,” Ryuji said, his voice rising. “And I bet you don’t give a fuck about any of their victims.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Akechi said. “But even if I did, I wouldn’t brainwash people to get my way.” 

“It ain’t—” 

“Stop!” Ren clenched his hands into fists. He couldn’t bring himself to look at either of them. “Please. Just stop.” 

Ryuji sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Fuck this,” he muttered. “C’mon, Mishima. We got better places to be.” 

“Right,” Mishima said, following him out of the lobby with his head down. 

Ren walked with Akechi down to the boardwalk at the edge of the sand, looking out over the vast blue expanse of the ocean. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Akechi said, brushing his fingertips over the back of Ren’s hand. “I didn’t mean to ruin your trip.” 

“You’re not,” Ren said. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

Akechi smiled and Ren felt as satisfied as he did when a dart stabbed into the dark bullseye at the center of the target. As always, Akechi made it easy to forget everything else. 

“I made dinner plans,” Akechi said. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

Dinner turned out to be ridiculously fancy, in a restaurant overlooking the beach. They were seated by a large window through which they could watch the sun slowly sink into the water. Akechi was at his most charming, and Ren felt a little stunned by the full force of it. He felt like they were on a date, like Akechi was actually trying to impress him. It was strange, but exhilarating. 

After dinner they walked on the beach, moonlight spilling over them, lighting the sand and casting a shimmering trail in the water. The stretch of beach was mostly deserted, and Akechi actually held Ren’s hand, lacing their fingers together nonchalantly like he did it every day. 

He led Ren to a hotel set directly on the beach, pausing in the shadow of the tall building. 

“I had fun tonight,” he said, with a strange finality to his words. 

“Yeah,” Ren said, wondering why the mood had so drastically shifted. “Me too.” 

“Ren...there’s something you should know.” 

Akechi reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping it for a moment. He handed it to Ren. 

“I want you to read this,” he said. 

Ren skimmed through the article. It detailed the aftermath of the latest psychotic breakdown, a bus driver who had lost his mind while en route, killing several people. 

“What’s up?” Ren asked, handing the phone back to Akechi. “Do you have a lead on who it might be?” 

“Ren,” Akechi said, chiding and sorrowful. “Don’t be an idiot. You know who’s behind it, so stop lying to yourself.” 

“I don’t…” Ren stopped, a horrible feeling constricting his chest and making it hard to breathe. “You wouldn’t. Akechi, I know you wouldn’t…” 

Akechi’s eyes flashed like drawn steel. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my revenge, Amamiya. You should know that better than anyone.” 

Ren blinked at him. This was so much to take in. He should have figured it out sooner, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see it, so he’d forced himself not to. 

“Why tell me?” he rasped. “Why now?” 

Akechi didn’t answer. Instead he reached into his pocket and took out a spare room key. He turned it over in his hand, thoughtfully. 

“I live for my revenge,” he said. “I know this about myself. My plan is very thorough and it doesn’t provide for my survival once Shido has fallen. There is no one in the world who I wouldn’t destroy to get there. You might think you’re an exception but you’re not.” 

He spoke calmly but with authority, not to be challenged. Even though Ren wanted to say:  _ you’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong.  _

“Think about that,” Akechi said. He held out the key. “Think about it for a long time. If you decide that’s what you really want, I’ll be here. But I won’t blame you if you make a smarter choice.” 

Ren took the key and nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.


	19. public displays of affection

Goro was sitting on his bed, case files spread around him as he typed on his laptop, letting clues come to him freeform and recording the train of his thoughts.

It had been something like penance, or maybe more akin to self-flagellation, to tell Ren the truth about the psychotic breakdowns. To break the only bond Goro had, to take the only person he had come to care for. It was no less than he deserved. 

A mental shutdown was one thing. It was holding a gun to someone’s head and pulling the trigger. But psychotic breakdowns were different. To cause a psychotic breakdown was to throw a bomb, and the resulting devastation would be indiscriminate. 

_ You’re so much like me, Goro. Rotten all the way to the core.  _

Shido was right—father and son, they were not just bound by their own shared blood, but also by the blood of so many others they had spilled. Goro wanted to ignore it, refuse it, let indignant anger make him blind. But he knew Shido was speaking the truth. They were both irredeemable. 

Now Ren would see that too. And that would be the end of it. 

It was better this way. Goro wasn’t meant for someone like Ren, who deserved the entire world fallen at his feet. Ren would move on, and find someone who truly made him happy. Someone kind and caring, with a good heart. 

Goro sighed. It was all very noble and self-sacrificing on the surface, but Goro knew that if Ren ever found someone else to love, he would probably want to kill that person slowly and creatively.

The beep of a keycard in the door startled Goro out of his murderous thoughts. 

Ren walked in, smiling sheepishly. He set the key on the side table and took a few steps into the room, then hesitated like he wasn’t sure if he would be welcome. 

“You came back,” Goro said, like an idiot. 

He got up and crossed the room, stopping a few paces away. Leaving a little distance between them because if he came any closer, he would be caught up in the current that had been pulling him towards Ren ever since they met. 

“Of course I did. I love you.” 

It was hard to deny the jolt of pure want, in every sense of the word, that went through Goro at the sound. How pathetic, to want so desperately to be loved. And yet it awakened a fierce hunger in him that he hadn’t known he was capable of. 

He crossed the distance between them and kissed Ren roughly, clutching Ren’s shirt in his fists to draw him closer, like he was drowning and all he wanted was to drag Ren with him to the lightless depths. 

Ren moved with him, both pliant and eager, let himself be pushed onto the bed, on top of the case files. Goro pinned his hands above his head and kissed him hard, kneeling between his spread legs. 

“I’m glad you told me,” Ren said, when Goro pulled back to breathe. “I don’t want there to be walls between us.” 

“I don’t want that either,” Goro said, and it was the truth. There would always be walls between them—that was just the nature of human beings. But he would revel in this intimacy while he could. 

“I have my terms, though,” Ren said, with a stern glance. 

Goro rolled his eyes and pretended to be unimpressed. “Let’s hear them,” he said dryly, though he was likely to agree to anything Ren proposed while Ren was spread underneath him like this, so willing and hopeful. 

“I want to call you Goro,” Ren said. “Can I?” 

Goro hesitated, then nodded. Only Shido called him by his first name—a gesture meant to convey disrespect, to emphasize the difference in status. But from Ren’s lips it felt entirely different. 

“And you won’t go into the Metaverse without me,” Ren said. “Not for anything.” 

“I promise.”

Ren’s lips quirked in a devilish smile, like Joker in the Metaverse catching Crow’s eye before passing the baton. 

Goro leaned in and kissed him, biting gently at his lip, letting his tongue thoroughly map out Ren’s mouth before he moved on to the elegant curve of Ren’s neck. 

“This is going to leave a mark,” he said, his mouth against Ren’s skin. “Where everyone can see.” 

Ren let out a soft whimper, his fingers tensing in Goro’s hair. Goro took that as permission. Leaving marks was something he hadn’t dared to do before, something he had been sure Ren wouldn’t want, even as Goro fantasized about something more permanent like a scar or a tattoo. Something that would never fade, that would write Goro’s love for him into Ren’s skin. 

_ That  _ was something best left to fantasy, but for now he had Ren beneath him, making soft, lovely sounds with each kiss and caress. They fit together so well, so perfectly, whether they were fucking or fighting or arguing philosophy. 

In a way, it felt like Ren had always been meant for him, even before they met. Like they were two sides of the same coin, tumbling and tossed by forces they couldn’t control or even comprehend. But as long as they had each other, they would make it through. 

Goro woke with the sun in his eyes, filtering through the gauzy curtains. Beside him, Ren was still asleep, the sheet thrown across his chest, leaving his neck exposed. 

A jolt of arousal stabbed through Goro at the sight of the dark mark on Ren’s smooth, pale skin. He brushed his fingertips over the love bite, very gently, and Ren’s eyelids fluttered but stayed closed. He shifted in his sleep and the sheet fell away to reveal part of his hip and upper thigh. 

Goro swallowed, hard. There, on Ren’s exposed, vulnerable skin, were several small bruises that Goro knew would line up exactly with the shape of his fingertips. 

_ You hurt him. You monster.  _

But at the same time, the pulse of desire within him was undeniable. 

“Hey,” Ren murmured, eyes slipping open. He smiled at Goro with such tangible fondness that Goro had to look away. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Goro said, though it was mostly a lie. He was having a very hard time regretting the marks on Ren’s body, marks that made it clear exactly who Ren belonged to. 

“Hurting me?” Ren asked, confused. He followed Goro’s glance and noticed the bruises on his hip. 

And then he laughed, sweet and clear as a stream. 

“The big, scary Black Mask is apologizing for leaving a few little bruises?” 

He grinned, then relented when Goro didn’t express any amusement. 

“What, you don’t like it?” 

Goro hesitated. “I like it a little too much, maybe.” 

Ren’s eyes met his, and their connection felt thrilling, electric. He grabbed a pen off the nightstand and handed it to Goro with a sly smile. 

“Sign your work,” he said. 

Goro stayed close to Ren as they walked together back to the hotel where he was supposed to be staying with the rest of his class. Every now and then, he let his fingertips brush the side of Ren’s right hip, where he had written his name in dark ink across Ren’s skin. Each time, he felt heat pulse within his veins. 

Ren caught his gaze, eyes glinting like a gemstone in the sun. Daring Goro to do something about it. 

And why not? They were in Hawaii, across an ocean from home, and it wasn’t likely anyone here knew them. There was no reason not to grab Ren by the waist and pull him close, ravish him with a kiss almost too filthy for a public setting. 

Ren went with it, easily and eagerly, curling his fingers into Goro’s shirt and opening his mouth to Goro’s assault. 

“Hey, get a room already.” A woman’s voice, loud and obnoxious. “My students are trying to get an educational experience.” 

“Oh shit,” Ren murmured, pushing his face into Goro’s neck. 

“Amamiya? Is that you?” 

A dark haired woman approached with her hands on her hips, as Ren reluctantly disengaged from Goro’s grasp and turned to face her. 

“Uh, hey Kawakami,” he murmured. 

“Ugh.” She rubbed her forehead. “Why does this have to happen on my watch?” 

“I can’t help it.” Ren grinned recklessly. “I’m in love.” 

Goro wanted to kiss him again, and never stop. 

“C’mon,” Ren continued. “I know how to keep a secret. You do too, right?” 

Kawakami narrowed her eyes at him, scowling. “I see how it is. Fine. I won’t write you up for this. But try to keep the PDA to a minimum, okay?” 

“Not to worry,” Goro said. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” 

“Whatever.” Kawakami gave them a final warning and left, tossing a stern glance over her shoulder at Ren. 

“She’s my homeroom teacher,” Ren said, glancing at Goro. 

“The one who moonlights as a maid?” 

“Yeah,” Ren said. 

He glanced across the street where Makoto, Ryuji, and Sumire were huddled together, talking intently about something. Probably Phantom Thieves business. 

“All of my friends are gonna get something to eat,” Ren said, watching Goro hopefully. “Do you want to go with them?” 

Goro hesitated. He knew how much Ren wanted him to get along with that motley crew of friends. But he also knew that if they were the Phantom Thieves—and he was relatively sure they were—he was going to have to take them out sooner or later. Better neither of them get attached. 

“I came here to see you,” he said, putting his hand on the small of Ren’s back. His skin was warm through his thin shirt. “Not them.” 

It wasn’t fair, using affection to get his way. He could tell Ren was always hungry for any sign he cared, and he wished he were better at it. But Ren had said he wanted Goro, the real Goro, so he would be himself rather than play Prince Charming like he did on TV. 

At any rate the strategy worked wonderfully, Ren melting into his touch and smiling at him. Instead of lunch with the Phantom Thieves, they bought shrimp from a stand and walked on the beach, holding hands. 

It was so perfect Goro could almost believe this was their life, and the work they did together in Tokyo was nothing more than a bad dream.

Almost. 


	20. where you want to be

Ren felt a strange wistfulness watching the Phantom Thieves make their way through Okumura’s Palace. He and Goro were following from a cautious distance, waiting for the Thieves to do...whatever it was they did to steal hearts. The calling card had been sent yesterday, and Ren had to admit he was wildly curious about the Thieves’ methods. 

Even with the masks it was easy to tell who was who. Ryuji, bold and brash as a punk with his metal skull and a shotgun. Ann with a kind of seductive confidence she didn’t have in the real world, all hips and tail and fierce, precise whipwork. Yusuke, long and lean and hauntingly graceful, and Haru, so effervescent she barely seemed to touch the ground. 

Kasumi never left Makoto’s side, her flashy gymnast’s grace a contrast to Makoto’s rigid strength. Together they were like steel and silk, twined and lovely. 

Morgana had transformed from a cat into a cartoonish, bouncing creature, just as quick and vicious as the rest. 

There was only one Ren didn’t recognize, until she spoke. Then he realized the girl with the long hair and hovering spacecraft was Alibaba, though here they called her Oracle. 

Ren imagined what it would be like to be a part of their team, passing the baton back and forth with gleeful ease, breaking each other out of status ailments and leaning on friendly shoulders when injured or exhausted. 

“We could join them,” he whispered to Goro, but even before he saw the dark look cross Goro’s face he knew it was a stupid thing to say. 

He could have the Phantom Thieves, or he could belong to Crow. But he couldn’t have both. 

“I’m kidding,” he said placatingly. “This is where I want to be.” 

Goro didn’t answer, but Ren felt the smooth, cool back of the claws on Goro’s gloves gently caress the inside of his wrist as Goro pulled him off to one side while the Thieves emerged from the safe room. It was just a little gesture, nearly lost in the chaos around them. But it was enough. 

They followed the Thieves deeper into the Palace, watching them fight. Goro was doubtlessly cataloging their strengths and weaknesses, analyzing their style, while Ren was stunned by a side of his friends he’d never seen before.

“Their skills are unremarkable,” Goro whispered to him. “How they’ve gotten this far is beyond me.” 

Just before the room where Okumura was lying in wait, the Thieves were stopped by a powerful shadow, red smoke radiating from it as it howled and transformed into a Mithras. 

“I’ve got this,” Makoto said to her team, stepping forward. The rest of them moved back to give her space. 

“Johanna,” she shouted, extending her hand. “Call of Command!” 

Pale blue green light enveloped the shadow, encasing it in a translucent cocoon of hard edges and sharp angles. The cocoon shrank and shrank until it sank into the shadow, who screamed at the intrusion and then became eerily silent. 

“Okay,” Makoto said, clapping her hands. “Let’s get going. The Treasure is right around the corner.” 

The shadow followed her obediently, just like a member of the team. 

“Now  _ that’s  _ interesting,” Goro said, glancing at Ren. 

It was. It felt almost like a counterpoint to Call of Chaos, two opposites pitted against each other and Ren caught somewhere in the middle. 

“No,” Goro hissed, grabbing Ren by the wrist. “You’ll give us away.” 

Ren stared at him. “They’re gonna die if we don’t help them.” 

Below them, in the central chamber of the Palace, the Phantom Thieves were in disarray. They were weary and wounded, exhausted after facing several waves of Okumura’s robots. Now a robotic replica of Haru was about to self-destruct, a wave of devastation the Thieves would not survive. 

Goro’s eyes were hard and cold. “Then that’s their own damn fault.” 

“They’re not the enemy,” Ren said. He felt raw and vulnerable, tears prickling his eyes. “Please, Goro. They’re my friends.” 

“Get up,” Makoto said from below them, struggling to her feet. She swayed unsteadily, surveying the chaos around her. “C’mon guys.” 

The rest of the Thieves struggled to rise as well. But it was clear their might was spent. 

“You’ll blow our cover,” Goro hissed, but he didn’t stop Ren from raising his gun and taking careful aim.

“Self destruct in: Five. Four.” 

“I don’t care,” Ren said. “I can’t let them die.” 

“Three. Two.” 

Ren pulled the trigger on his pistol and cognitive Haru stumbled, the lights on her body flashing wildly for a moment before she disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

Ren and Goro stepped back, further into shadow, but the Thieves didn’t realize what had happened and were quickly distracted by Okumura’s pathetic surrender. He begged for forgiveness and mercy, which the Thieves would give him but Goro would not. 

Goro glanced at Ren with eyes narrowed, but he looked more betrayed than angry, and although Ren was sure he’d made the right choice, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something wrong. 

When the Thieves finally left, limping away towards the exit, Ren and Goro dropped down from their dark vantage point. Ren had to admit this job didn’t bother him as much as some of the others. Okumura had requested so many mental shutdowns that it seemed only fitting he have one as well. 

Goro wasn’t the type to waste time on one liners—he casually shot Okumura in the head, then gestured for Ren to follow him through the escape route they’d scouted yesterday. 

They came tumbling out of the Metaverse into a small back room at the Okumura Foods corporate building, filled with boxes of office supplies and Big Bang Burger merch. 

“I’m sorry,” Ren said, catching Goro’s wrist as he turned to go. “I couldn’t let them die.” 

“I know,” Goro said. “You’re not like me, Ren. I understand. You would do well as one of the Phantom Thieves.” 

“Maybe,” Ren said carelessly, like he hadn’t had the same thought a hundred times. “But I don’t care. I’m where I want to be.” 

It was the truth...wasn’t it? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end of part II - there will be a short break while i put all the pieces together for part III. It's mostly written but i need to figure a few things out. thank you so much for reading and all the kudos and comments!! you are all wonderful <3


	21. Teambuilding and trust exercises

##  **Part III: Melchizedek**

_And Melchizdek said “...blessed be the most high God, which hath delivered thine enemies into thy hand'._

— Genesis 14:18–20

* * *

Kasumi sat on the uncomfortable sofa in LeBlanc’s attic, sandwiched between Haru and Ann. Ryuji and Yusuke were on folding chairs, turned towards the center of the room, and Morgana was sitting on the futon in the corner. 

They were all watching Makoto, waiting for her decision. 

The world had turned against them, and now it seemed like everyone hated the Phantom Thieves. Since Okumura’s death, they’d been branded murderers and criminals, and it felt like a noose was closing in around them, tighter every day. 

“I think we should invite Akechi-kun to the school festival,” Makoto said. “If we want to figure out who laid this trap for us, we need a source of intel. And my sister....is no longer reliable.” 

Kasumi nodded sympathetically. Makoto had told her about how Sae had lost sight of her justice, about her short temper and her harsh words. 

“I also think that we should try to talk to Ren,” Makoto continued. “I know all of you are friends with him. I think of him as a friend too. But he and Akechi live together. They’re good friends. It’s highly likely he knows something.” 

There was silence as all the Thieves looked at each other warily. 

“I ain’t betrayin’ a friend,” Ryuji said at last. “Ren has helped me out more times than I can count. I ain’t turnin’ on him like that.” 

“Yeah,” Ann agreed. “Ren listened to me about Kamoshida and believed me when everyone else turned their back on me.” 

There was a murmur of agreement from all the other Thieves. Kasumi kept quiet, but in her heart she agreed with them. Ren couldn’t possibly be a traitor. He was too good to them, too kind. 

Makoto’s eyes narrowed, but she simply nodded. “Fine. Then we’ll proceed with inviting Akechi to the festival. Does anyone want to call Ren and ask for Akechi’s number?” 

“I’ll text him,” Kasumi said softly. 

She felt like she was being pulled in two directions, and she hated it. Ren was her best friend and Makoto was her girlfriend, and she wished the two of them weren’t on opposite sides. 

Kasumi didn’t want to pick a side. She wanted all of them to get along like they used to, before they found out how close Ren was to Akechi, before Makoto decided Ren was untrustworthy and potentially dangerous. 

It was true that someone was out to get the Phantom Thieves, someone who didn’t care if people died along the way. But Ren could never be ruthless like that. Kasumi trusted him even if Makoto didn’t. 

“What’s wrong?” Ren asked, setting his fishing line aside to give Kasumi his full attention. She looked miserable, and had barely said a word since they’d arrived, even though she usually loved fishing. 

“It’s nothing,” Kasumi murmured. 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Ren said. 

He knew if he didn’t push, she wouldn’t tell him, even though she wanted to. She was too afraid of being a burden, of seeming weak. 

She sighed, tugging at the line. “It’s just. Makoto and I had a fight.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ren murmured. “What did you fight about?” 

Kasumi shrugged. “I can’t really talk about it. She wouldn’t want me to tell anyone.” 

Ren was curious, but too tactful to press. It was probably Phantom Thieves business, after all. 

“It’s just...sometimes it feels like she’s hard to love,” Kasumi said. “She’s all hard edges. But even when I can’t get through to her, I can’t stop what I feel for her.” 

Ren gave her a sympathetic smile. “I understand.” 

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I guess you would.” 

Ren laughed. “I must complain about him too much if that’s your response.” 

“It’s not complaining,” Kasumi reassured him. “And I’m always here for you, senpai.” 

“Same,” Ren said quickly. 

He was touched by the offer, but it also made him uncomfortable. Sometimes it felt like most of his friends only wanted him to listen, and solve their problems, and if he was being honest, he preferred it that way. He wanted to be needed, so that they would never change their minds about associating with him and leave him behind.

He wondered why he’d never felt that way about Goro, not even at the beginning when Goro was aloof and distant. Somehow he’d always known that Goro needed him—not because Ren solved his problems or was a shoulder to lean on, but because of who Ren was, deep down. Because they completed each other, two halves of the same whole. 

“Senpai…” Kasumi was staring intently at the water, frowning. “Do you think you could give me Akechi-san’s number? Makoto wants to invite him to be a speaker at the school festival.” 

“Sure,” Ren said, hiding his dismay. Goro had been plotting with Shido to trap the Phantom Thieves, and this would give him the perfect opportunity. 

Still, he was bound to do it sooner or later, so Ren figured it was best to just get it over with. 

His friends were all going to go to jail, if Goro’s plan worked. The thought of it made him sick, but he knew it was inevitable. Anyone who went up against Shido would pay for their transgression one way or another. And at least this way, no one had to die. 


	22. A deal's dirty when it's with a dirty dealer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taking some liberties with the school festival timing, just to make things flow better. the main thing is that the entire festival happens on one day instead of spread over two days.

The microwaved takoyaki felt like a condemned man’s last meal, and Ren could barely force himself to swallow his food. Around him his friends were talking and laughing, and Goro was being politely ingratiating, but he knew it wouldn’t last. It was only a matter of time before Goro sprung the trap. 

“I’m going to take this,” Goro said, grabbing the stick that belonged to the bright red takoyaki. “Call it my performance fee.” 

“It’s spicy,” Ren said, snatching it out of his hand before Goro could pretend he was stupid enough to not have realized it was the “hot” one. 

Ren knew this game—he’d seen it played before. Pretend to make a mistake, to have an amusing or endearing vulnerability. Goro used it to throw people off guard, to make them trust him. 

He liked seeing Goro trick shitty adults. He liked it a lot less when they were all his friends. 

“Aww man, you ruined it,” Ryuji complained good-naturedly. 

Goro’s eyes flashed like cold steel for a half-second, then he smiled. Bright and charming and flawless, like something made for TV. 

“I suppose I should thank you, then,” he said. “Spicy foods don’t agree with me.” 

“That’s funny,” Ren said, his tone flat and annoyed. “Because I see you eat curry all the time.” 

“Curry is different,” Goro said. “Do all of you mind if I borrow Ren for a moment?” 

“Go right ahead,” Makoto said, her keen eyes flicking to Ren’s face. She was the only one who didn’t trust him implicitly, the only one who wasn’t sure about his loyalty. “The PE Faculty office is there for you to use. Just make sure you’re ready to go onstage in about an hour.” 

“Of course.” Goro smiled at her and then turned and walked away without glancing back to see if Ren would follow. 

He didn’t need to. Ren would follow him anywhere. 

“So this was the infamous Kamoshida’s office?” Goro said, looking around with disgust at the scattered volleyball equipment and ancient computer. 

“Yeah. I almost got expelled here.” 

Goro sighed, turning to him. “We have a job to do here. Are you going to keep getting in my way? If so, it would be better for you to just go home.” 

Ren sank down in the flimsy swivel chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s just...hard. Betraying your friends.” 

Goro was quiet for a long moment. 

“I do know what it’s like,” he finally said. “In the first Palace I ever infiltrated, the ruler’s cognitive version of her daughter was my playmate. My best friend. We used to argue about Featherman together and play video games. At first I didn’t know she wasn’t real. By the time I found out, it didn’t really matter.” 

“You killed her mother,” Ren said, filling in the blanks.

Goro nodded. “It’s very strange to be around her now. The real Futaba, I mean.” 

Ren stared at him. “You mean Futaba’s mom was…” 

“The researcher who put me in the Metaverse? Yes.” 

“Oh.” That was a lot to process. Futaba’s mom, who she’d been cloistered in mourning for throughout most of her adolescence, was one of Akechi’s victims. 

Ren didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Akechi checked his phone, sighing. “We don’t have time for this. I need to prepare for the panel.” 

“You don’t need to prepare,” Ren said, stepping forward and fixing Goro’s tie. Not because it was out of place, but just because it was an excuse to touch him. “You’ve got this.” 

Goro leaned forward and took Ren by the chin, kissing him gently, then biting his lip hard enough to sting. 

“Be good,” he said. 

Ren rolled his eyes. 

“I mean it,” Goro said, low and warning. “This is important. If diplomacy fails, Shido will have us take more extreme measures.” 

Ren relented, looking away. “Yeah. I know.” 

When it came to Shido, they really had no choice. Not until Goro was ready for his revenge plan to move forward. Ren didn’t like to think about that too much, because he was pretty sure Goro’s plan wasn’t going to work. You couldn’t shame someone who had no morals, after all. Shido probably wouldn’t care if Goro was his son, and it was possible he already knew. 

But every time Ren tried to raise the issue with Goro, he was met with a blank wall of resistance, or Goro would simply walk away without engaging his arguments. So Ren was biding his time until hopefully, someday, he could make Goro see the truth. 

Until then, they had to play by Shido’s rules. 

It was time to blackmail the Phantom Thieves. 


	23. tell me you love me again and again

Ren was laughing at him. 

Goro crossed his arms and scoffed and tried to act aloof, but Ren was bent over with laughter, cackling gleefully. 

“Don’t,” Goro said, scowling. The white prince outfit had more buttons and frill than his usual Metaverse attire, and the fabric was a lot stiffer. He hadn’t been certain he could still summon it. 

“Your mask looks like a beak,” Ren said, still chuckling. “Does it need to be that long and pointy?” 

“I can’t very well wear the black mask, now can I?” Goro snapped. “So get used to it.” 

“But not too used to it,” Ren said. “We’ve only been doing this for a month, right?” 

“That’s our cover story.” 

Ren sighed. He had been sighing a lot, lately. It was starting to get on Goro’s nerves. 

“I didn’t ask you to do this with me,” Goro snapped. “In fact, I believe I told you to stay out of it.” 

Ren stepped back like he’d been hit, his jaw tensing. “You think I’d let you go it alone?” 

“I’d rather go it alone than have you complain about every little thing,” Goro said, clenching his fists. “Honestly, Ren. You’re acting like a sulky child.” 

“And you’re acting like a fucking monster,” Ren said. “Don’t you even care that they’re all going to jail? They’re all going to be branded criminals for the rest of their lives because of us?” 

Goro hesitated, looking away. Now was the moment. He needed to come clean, to tell Ren the entire plan. To explain that the leader of the Phantom Thieves was too dangerous to let live, and as the instrument of Shido’s violent will, it was Akechi’s job to take her out. The dramatic capture they had planned for the leader of the Phantom Thieves was just the beginning, a way to put her somewhere where Akechi could easily neutralize her. 

“Goro,” Ren said softly, moving closer. His gray eyes were tender, cautious, as he reached up and took off the red mask. “You know I’m on your side. It’s just hard for me to watch. I’m sorry for constantly pushing at you.” 

Goro swallowed. He couldn’t. He couldn’t tell Ren the truth. Not when Ren was looking at him like that, so warm and open hearted. 

He would just have to keep it to himself, and deal with the consequences when they came. 

It was better this way. Keep as much blood off of Ren’s hands as possible. If he didn’t know what was going to happen, he couldn’t punish himself for failing to spot it. 

And if Goro played his hand right, maybe Ren would never find out whose job it was to pull the trigger. 

Goro hated the Phantom Thieves. He  _ hated  _ them. He hated that they were using the Metaverse in ways he never dreamed existed. He hated their stupid Phansite and all their followers. Most of all, he hated the way Ren lit up whenever any of their faces showed up on the screen of his phone. 

He hated knowing that Ren would be happier with them, and that they were better for Ren than Goro, twisted and vicious creature that he was, could ever be. 

And, as if that weren’t enough, the Phantom Thieves were insufferable. Goro had quickly come to that conclusion not even a half hour into their first night of infiltration. He’d assumed, given their track record, that they worked together like a well-oiled machine. But that wasn’t the case at all. They were a loud, motley collection of parts to different machines, clanking and complaining as they attempted to move as one. 

Regardless, he had to smile at them throughout the infiltration, doing his best to earn their trust. Fortunately, he had a secret weapon. They all loved Ren, and despite the blackmail and threats that had gotten them to cooperate, they mostly trusted him. If Ren smiled at Goro and agreed with him, everyone else was likely to go along with whatever he wanted, like they couldn’t deny Ren anything. 

Goro knew more about each of them than he ever let on. Not because of any research or detective intuition, but because Ren told him everything. Confided in him about his fear that Shiho would never recover, made him laugh with stories of Ann’s modeling adventures. Trusted him with his deepest secrets, and never seemed to worry that Goro would betray that trust. 

Goro hated keeping secrets from Ren, but there were times it was unavoidable. Like right now. Even though Makoto looked at Ren with poorly hidden suspicion, he cared about her just as much as any of the others. There was no way Goro could admit his true intentions. 

He would just have to keep the assassination plan a secret from Ren for as long as he could. 

Goro wasn’t sure why the Phantom Thieves invited them to Mementos to help change a few hearts. It was obvious the Thieves had no fondness for him, but perhaps Ren’s company was enough of an incentive to overlook that. And as part of their mission was to win the Thieves—and particularly Makoto’s—trust, it was worth coming when called. 

Today, they were in the Mona-bus, as Ren affectionately called it. Goro called it creepy as fuck, but kept that opinion to himself. Goro was pressed against the door, with Ren at his side. 

Sakamoto was telling some kind of ridiculous story, and Ren was laughing at all the right moments. Goro narrowed his eyes and tried to keep his focus on the task ahead of him. Out of all the Thieves, Sakamoto annoyed him the most, because he was the closest to Ren. It was Sakamoto’s texts that Ren always answered first, Sakamoto who he always mentioned in conversations. 

“You shoulda been there, Ren,” Sakamoto was saying, bumping Ren’s shoulder in a much too familiar way. The two of them were already thigh to thigh in the small bus. “I almost beat my best time.” 

“Next time, for sure,” Ren promised. 

“Imma hold you to that.” Sakamoto grinned easily. “Hey, whaddya say we get ramen after, yeah?” 

It wasn’t even what he was saying. It wasn’t even Sakamoto himself. It was all of it, all the Thieves and the way they were so familiar with Ren, at ease with him in a way Goro could never be. They wore their hearts on their sleeves for him, while Goro would always have to lie. They gave him something Goro never could. 

It pissed him off. 

He reached out and wrapped a possessive arm around Ren, pulling him halfway into his lap. 

“You’re busy tonight,” he growled. 

If he had been worried about rejection, it was needlessly. Ren leaned into his embrace, laughing softly. 

“Yeah, sorry Ryuji,” he said. “My boyfriend has plans for me.” 

_ Boyfriend. _

Goro had never thought about it in those terms, as a relationship that could be defined and announced. But he liked it, more than he would have thought. 

“I knew it,” Ryuji said, smirking. “You shoulda told me, Ren.” 

“Wait, you knew?” Ren sounded shocked. 

“You’re kind of obvious,” Ann said. She pitched her voice in a ridiculous imitation of Ren’s baritone. “Oh, Ann, Akechi is so smart, he’s like the smartest person I know. And he’s  _ so  _ pretty..” 

“Yup, that sounds exactly like Ren,” Futaba added. “Besides, he straight up told me he was in love.” 

Goro pressed his nose into Ren’s neck and breathed in his familiar scent. 

“Is that true, darling?” he murmured, too softly for the others to hear. 

“Yeah,” Ren whispered back. 

“And you always have...um,” Haru coughed delicately. “Those marks on your neck. Your shirts don’t always completely hide them.” 

“Even I figured it out,” Morgana announced from...wherever Morgana’s voice was coming from. “You’re so bad at hiding it.” 

Ren cleared his throat and addressed the Thieves. “That’s enough out of all of you, unless you all want me to tell everyone who your crushes are on.” 

That quickly shut all of them up. Likely they had all confided in Ren at some point or another. 

“We’re just teasing you, Ren-senpai,” Sumire—no,  _ Kasumi _ —said. 

It had taken Goro a moment, when they first joined the team, to get over the fact that she was using her dead sister’s name. But if she seemed to be unaware, he wasn’t about to be the one to break her out of her illusion. Not when they had a job to do. 

He wasn’t sure how to deal with her kindness. He would never forget the look on her face, shock and dismay and shame, when she found out the nature of his relationship with her father. And yet she’d continued to be polite, thoughtful, and unfailingly respectful even in moments when he felt like he deserved nothing but contempt. 

There was more to her than most people realized. Goro tried not to notice her devotion to Makoto, the love that was evident in every word and gesture, tried not to realize what he was going to take from her before this was all over. What he was going to take from all of them. 

It wouldn’t just be Makoto who died, but also the unwavering belief all of them had in the rightness and justice of the world. Their silly idealism and sense of justice would collapse, leaving them empty and bitter. 

He hoped the same wouldn’t happen to Ren. 


	24. The center of the spiderweb

**Kasumi:** will you come to LeBlanc for a little while?

**Kasumi:** I really need to talk to you about something. 

**Kasumi:** it’s important

From the tone of her texts, Ren assumed that only Kasumi and Makoto would be at LeBlanc, which had become kind of a home base for their friend group courtesy of Futaba and Sojiro, who seemed to know more about the Phantom Thieves than he let on. 

But when Ren arrived, all of his friends were there, looking grim and determined. Makoto was sitting on the couch, but she got to her feet when he walked through the door. 

“We need to talk to you,” she said. 

Ren glanced around uneasily. Ryuji and Yusuke had moved to block the only exit, watching him with closed off stares. Morgana was standing on the folding table, and Ann and Haru flanked Makoto like two bodyguards. 

It felt like an ambush. 

“What about?” he asked, trying for casual and failing. 

“I’m sorry, senpai,” Kasumi murmured, staring at the ground. 

“Akechi’s going to betray us.” Makoto crossed her arms, leveling a cold, ruthless stare at Ren. “You knew, didn’t you?” 

Ren met her eyes. He didn’t like the way she said Akechi’s name, the way she separated the two of them as though they hadn’t planned this whole thing together. 

“There’s no point in lying,” Futaba said, sounding miserable. “We have evidence.” 

“We’re planning to take you in,” Ren said. “ _ Together _ . You’re going to get caught eventually anyway. Might as well be now.” 

“Senpai…” Kasumi whispered. Her eyes were bright with tears. “Are you really okay with...with…” 

“Were you going to kill me together too?” Makoto asked bluntly. 

Ren blinked at her. “We’re not—we’re not planning to kill you.” 

“He doesn’t know,” Kasumi said, almost pleading. “I told you he didn’t know.” 

Makoto glanced at Futaba, who was sitting on the sofa with her knees drawn to her chest, her eyes wide and bright. 

“Play it for him,” Makoto said. 

Futaba pulled out her phone and tapped it a few times, then held it out so Ren could clearly hear the voice emanating from it. Cool and ruthless and calculating, the voice that haunted his dreams and filled his waking hours. Plotting with Shido to kill the leader of the Phantom Thieves and planning to lie to his closest ally. 

Ren closed his eyes for a moment, his heart sinking. 

_ Why would he hide this from me?  _

But he already knew. It was one thing to hunt down Shadows in the Metaverse and another to press a gun to a helpless prisoner’s forehead in the real world. Especially when that prisoner was Ren’s friend. 

“You didn’t know, did you?” Kasumi asked, her voice trembling. “You couldn’t have known he was planning...this.” 

“Violet…” Makoto said, low and affectionate. The way she said it made it seem like a pet name. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” 

Kasumi sniffled and nodded. 

Ren sighed, sinking into one of the hardback chairs by the dining table. He desperately wanted to be alone, to process all of this. 

“I didn’t know,” he said. His voice was rough, raw. “Okay? He lied to me like he always does, and I was stupid enough to fall for it.” 

A warm hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up at Makoto, the steely glint in her eyes like a lifeline. 

“We have a plan,” she said. “Can we trust you with it?” 

Ren nodded miserably. He wasn’t going to betray the Thieves, not if it meant Makoto would die. And he knew Shido would hunt down the rest of them eventually too. He was an idiot to have ever thought they could escape. 

“We’re going to put Akechi back in the Metaverse,” Futaba said. “This is Nijiima-san’s case. She’s definitely going to interrogate the leader of the Phantom Thieves. When she does, Makoto will give her this phone.” 

Futaba held up a sleek black smartphone, waving it around. 

“I’ll convince her to show the phone to Akechi when he comes down,” Makoto said. “It will put him in her Palace. He’ll shoot my cognitive double and report back to his superiors that the leader of the Phantom Thieves is dead.” 

“So that’s it,” Futaba said. “Death averted by careful planning!” 

Ren sighed, rubbing his forehead. “It’s not gonna work.” 

“Why not?” Makoto asked. 

“Because Niijima-san is your sister,” Ren said. “They’re never going to let her interrogate a relative.” 

Futaba gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. “How come I didn’t think of that?” 

The others looked crestfallen. Ren was surprised they’d put such faith in a plan that depended so heavily on people being in the right place at the exact right moment. 

“It’s okay,” Makoto said. “We’ll think of something else. We still have some time.” 

All the Thieves began talking at once, a frantic din that filled the room. Ren tuned it out, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

Ren knew what he had to do. 

_ I love you, Crow. This is for you.  _

“I’ll do it,” he said, his voice cutting clearly through the noise. 

All the Phantom Thieves turned to him. 

“I’ll be the decoy,” he said. “The police can capture me, and I’ll pretend to be the leader of the Phantom Thieves. I’ll give Niijima-san the phone.” 

“You’re sure,” Makoto said. 

“I have one condition. I choose your next target.” 

Makoto’s face gave nothing away, but the rest of the Thieves’ eyes widened. 

“Who’s the target?” Makoto asked. 

_ He’s going to hate me for this forever,  _ Ren thought dismally,  _ but at least if we succeed, he’ll be free.  _

“Shido Masayoshi,” Ren said. “The guy who just put a hit on your leader.” 

“It’s a deal.” Makoto held out her hand. Ren shook it. Her grip was firm and reassuring, businesslike but not unkind. 

“Are you sure you can do this?” Kasumi asked, an hour later when the rest of the Thieves had cleared out and it was just her and Ren in the attic, sitting together on the futon. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“It’ll be fine,” Ren said, forcing his voice to come out light and confident. “I’m sure I can convince the police I’m the leader of the Phantom Thieves. It’ll be better that way. Makoto will be safe.” 

“If you’re sure,” Kasumi said. 

She didn’t ask him how it felt to find out Goro was a traitor and a liar, and Ren was glad. She just put her hand over his and leaned against his shoulder, and if he put his arm around her and cried a little into her hair, she didn’t say a word about it. 


	25. Love confessions

Goro slipped down the attic stairs as quietly as he’d snuck up them. Ren and Kasumi never even knew he was there, too caught up in the thrill of their own complicity to see how vulnerable they really were. 

_ “I’m sure I can convince the police I’m the leader of the Phantom Thieves. It’ll be better that way.”  _

Ren’s voice, clear and calm as a cloudless day. The fearless resolve that Goro had always admired was now set against him, the one person he thought was on his side was now the opposition. 

Goro hadn’t heard anything more than that single declaration before sneaking back down the stairs, but that was enough. That was all he needed to know. 

Ren had chosen the Thieves. That much was clear. His loyalty was to them and their twisted sense of justice, their bonds of friendship and love. 

Of course he had chosen them. Goro was a fool for ever thinking he wouldn’t. 

His feet took him out the front door and down the back alley to the station, where he boarded the next train without paying attention to his destination. His thoughts ran in circles, they dug trenches, they fired opening shots. 

Ren was going to act as the decoy. Play the hero, distract the police with his flashy heroics. 

The police would capture him. Cuff him and shove him in the back of a cop car, drive away with sirens flashing. 

He would be locked up in an underground interrogation room, beaten and drugged, forced to sign his name to a false confession. 

And then—

Goro got off the train, and his feet carried him to the church at Kanda, the quiet sanctuary his mother used to take him to every Sunday, where he’d murmur along with the hymns and fidget while the priest gave the sermon. 

It was mostly empty this time of evening, except for an elderly woman with a dark shawl, sitting in a pew with her head bowed, and a girl in the front row playing shogi against herself. 

Goro sat in the back and looked up at the stained glass martyr above him. 

He didn’t pray, not anymore, not after he discovered that no prayer would ever bring his mother back. Not after he had tasted enough of the world to know that any deity who might exist was neither benevolent nor just. 

The church reminded him of his mother. It reminded him of his hate, the quiet rage he kept to himself. It reminded him of the beautiful things that Shido had destroyed and the reason Goro’s only motive was to destroy Shido in turn. A dark and vengeful angel, sword drawn and ready to carve his own path, his own justice. 

After a while, he got up and slipped into the confession booth. In the dark, intimate space, he waited for the rustling of a priest’s vestments, the distinctive quiet of someone carefully listening. 

Goro’s mother had died shortly after he’d started going to confession, so he had only been a handful of times. But the words came easily to him, even now. 

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was eleven years ago.” 

“Then I welcome you back, my son,” the priest said. 

“I have committed seventeen mortal sins,” Goro said. “And I’ve planned one more.” 

“This is very serious. If this is true, your immortal soul is in grave danger.” 

Goro took a deep breath. In this small, quiet space he felt safe, calmed by the anonymity. It didn’t matter what he said here because nothing mattered, nothing at all. He was floating, disconnected from the world like a balloon without a tether. 

“I’m going to kill the person I love most,” he said. “I’m going to shoot him and then the police are going to cover it up. And he’ll be dead, and I’ll still be alive, and…” 

His hands were shaking wildly, violently. He pressed them to his thighs, sucked in air. 

“And I don’t care. I don’t. I  _ don’t _ .” 

The priest was saying something, but Goro couldn’t hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears. 

“I don’t care,” he whispered. “He’s just some trash I took in off the street. He is nothing.” 

He got up and shoved open the confessional door, ignoring the soft voice of the priest calling him back. He ran out of the church and onto the street, and kept running down alleyways and along empty streets until he was panting with exertion, legs trembling. 

In a deserted back alley, he leaned against the brick wall, pressing his palms to the rough surface. 

All of this was Ren’s fault. From the beginning, it was Ren’s fault for making Goro think he could ever have anything more. In truth, Goro’s wretched life served only a single purpose: bringing down Masayoshi Shido. He was a fool to have ever thought there could be something besides his mission. 

But how could he be anything less than a fool when Ren had tricked him so cleverly? 

“I’m going to kill you, Ren,” he said softly, into the cool air of the dark alley. “I’m going to kill you, darling.” 

His voice didn’t tremble, and his hands remained steady and strong at his sides as he began the long walk home.


	26. House of Darkness

Goro could tell Ren didn’t like lying to his friends, pretending that they’d never been in the Palace before when in fact they’d explored every corner before the infiltration to make sure it would go smoothly. 

Less clear to Goro was whether or not Ren had any problem lying to  _ him _ . 

After all, Goro knew about their little plan. Knew that Ren intended to take Makoto’s place as the leader of the Phantom Thieves. He didn’t know if there were any plans beyond that simple fact, but he didn’t need to. He had his own schemes to set in motion, after all. 

“It’s still so weird to see you wearing that,” Ren said, looking him up and down. The two of them were waiting outside while the Phantom Thieves conferred in the safe room. “You look like Prince Charming.” 

Goro glanced at him. He could read the subtext well enough. It’s not that he ever wanted to be Ren’s “Prince Charming.” But it had never been clearer that Ren thought him to be entirely the opposite. 

_ I hate you.  _

Everything about Ren irritated him. Ren’s deft handling of his unfortunate circumstances, his talent for collecting Personas, his ability to win the heart of anyone he spoke to. Goro despised waking up next to him, the dinners they had together where he had to laugh at Ren’s jokes and pretend to like the LeBlanc curry on his plate. 

And yet…

“What are you thinking about?” Ren asked. 

“How much I want to put my hands around your neck and squeeze,” Goro said absentmindedly, still lost in his thoughts. 

And then he realized what he’d said, and his eyes widened, his gaze snapping to Ren’s face. 

“Like in a murderous way?” Ren asked. “Or in a sexy way?” 

Goro huffed a soft laugh. Ren never failed to surprise him. The answer, of course, was  _ both. _ But he couldn’t say that. 

“Is it weird that…” Ren bit his lip thoughtfully. “I don’t want you to ask me. I just want you to take what you want.” 

Goro closed the distance between them so he could brush his fingers over the curve of Ren’s throat, wishing he was wearing his other outfit, the one that had claws he could sink into Ren’s skin. 

“You would regret it, darling,” he murmured, and watched Ren swallow. 

“I wouldn’t,” Ren said. “I trust you.” 

This, this right here, was what he hated most about Ren Amamiya. The love in his eyes, the blind trust. 

_ I’m going to break him, _ Goro thought, with a kind of dark satisfaction.  _ That way he’ll leave, before I have to— _

He turned away, banging hard on the door to the safe room. “We don’t have much time,” he warned the Thieves.

After a moment the door opened, Ryuji’s usually sunny face pinched and wary. The intense pace of the infiltration and the way they all distrusted each other’s company was weighing on all of them. 

Goro hadn’t given them a firm deadline yet, but warned them that any day now could be the day they needed to take the Treasure. Secretly, he was waiting to hear that an adequate security force had been assembled. It would take more than a few thugs to bring Joker down. 

“Heya, Ren,” Ryuji said. “Could you, uh, come in for a minute. Just you, sorry.” 

Ren glanced at Goro, looking like nothing so much as a loyal dog. 

Goro  _ hated  _ him. He did. He did. 

“Sorry, man,” Ren said, with a shallow smile that did little to hide his disquiet. “I don’t keep secrets from Goro.” 

_ Liar, you fucking liar… _

“It’s fine,” Goro said, waving his hand. “As though I’d be interested in anything they have to say.” 

Ren met his eyes, and for a moment he seemed darkly furious. But then the flare passed, and his gaze was as cool and collected as usual. 

“It ain’t important,” Ryuji finally said. “It’s just...” 

“We’re going to have to split up,” Makoto said, joining Ryuji in the doorway. “If we want to keep pace with your timeline.” 

“It’s hardly  _ my  _ timeline,” Goro said, pretending to be affronted. “It’s simply the circumstances we’re in.” 

“Whatever.” Makoto looked annoyed, but that seemed to be her default setting anyway. “We need two teams. One to take the House of Darkness and one to do the arena.”

“Makes sense,” Ren said, and Goro agreed. It was a good plan. “Hey, my Third Eye probably works pretty well in the darkness. How about Goro and I do that, and you handle the arena? Since you can Call of Command the enemies you’d probably do okay as the fighter.” 

Makoto hesitated. “There’s definitely going to be strong monsters in the maze.” 

“C’mon.” Ren smiled at her, charming and sweet. “We’ve got this.”

“Well, okay,” she said. “I’ll rally the team. Good luck, you two.” 

The House of Darkness was aptly named, as it was a nearly complete loss of visibility. Ren seemed to be able to see passingly well, with whatever his “Third Eye” was, but Goro stumbled through the darkness blindly. 

“Hold on to me,” Ren whispered, fingers firmly encircling Goro’s wrist. “I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” 

Goro huffed a soft, bitter laugh. Ren had done nothing but steer him in the wrong direction, ever since they met. He’d gone soft, lost sight of his goal, and even now it was hard to remember all the reasons he hated this world and everyone in it when Ren paused at a corner and drew him close, their bodies pressed together as they waited to ambush a passing shadow. 

After an hour in the maze, they took a break, sitting atop a large structure within one of the rooms. Shadows prowled about below them, unaware of the intruders in their midst. 

Ren sighed, slumping sideways until his head was in Goro’s lap, his face barely visible in the gloom. 

“I love you,” he said, brushing his fingers down Goro’s cheek. “I really, really do.” 

Goro studied him curiously. Did he really think that something as fragile and fraught as love was going to save him when the time came? 

“You’re a fool, Ren,” he said, and meant it with all his heart. 

Ren looked up at him with pale eyes, bright even in the darkness. 

“I’m your fool,” he promised. 

_ Liar. _


	27. Carve my own path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: explicit content, knifeplay, blood

Ren hesitated in the doorway to the bedroom, startled by just how  _ romantic  _ it looked inside, rose petals scattered across the bed and candles flickering on the dresser. 

“Do you like it, darling?” Standing behind him, Goro gave him a gentle push in the middle of his shoulder blades and he stumbled forward. 

“What’s the occasion?” he asked. 

He wasn’t opposed to the romance, but he could tell there was something more to it, a deeper current beneath the surface, swift and deadly. Goro had been too charming all night, his laughter just a touch too vicious, his smile flashing like a knife. 

He had some trick up his sleeve, and Ren would be lying if he said it didn’t make his pulse race and his breath come quicker just wondering what it was. 

“Get naked,” Goro said coolly. “And get in bed. On your back. I need to get a few things ready.” 

Ren almost asked what the plan was, but caught himself in time. Showing uncertainty would be the same as giving in, and he wasn’t about to concede this early in the game. 

Goro didn’t give him any hints, but left without another word. Ren stripped quickly and laid down in bed, his cock already half hard as he waited for Goro to return. 

It didn’t take him long, and whatever he was planning to use he’d put in a nondescript box, so Ren couldn’t even guess what was going to happen. The tingling anticipation felt good, like the start of a fight. 

“I’m going to need you to hold very still,” Goro said, putting his hand on Ren’s knee and gently spreading his legs. “Just like that.” 

Ren obeyed without question. It felt good to let Goro take the lead, like always. To lean into that trust, because he knew Goro would always catch him. Even now, when he knew better, part of him still fervently believed it. 

“If you move, I’m going to tie you to the bed. If you speak, I’m going to gag you.” Goro’s eyes were cold, his expression hard-edged. “If you beg for mercy, I may not give it to you.” 

Ren’s breath caught in his throat, and he wondered how Goro knew so intimately what it was he wanted. 

Goro opened the box and took something out, holding it up for Ren to see. It was one of the fancy ballpoint pens he liked to use, and he quickly got to work, writing something on the inside of Ren’s right thigh with slow and exquisite care. 

It wasn’t exactly a new sensation—Goro loved to mark him, whether with hickeys that showed above his collar or ink hidden beneath his clothes. Ren liked wearing those marks, and the way Goro’s eyes darkened when he saw them. 

Goro set the pen aside and took something else out of the box. It took Ren a moment to recognize it as a surgical scalpel, a long, slender instrument with a wicked, gleaming tip. 

_ Oh.  _

His heart leaped into his throat and it was all he could do to keep from flinching when Goro gently placed a hand on his knee. 

Goro raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. Waiting for him to give in, to say it was all too much, to refuse to take anything more. 

But Ren wasn’t about to lose. 

_ I trust you. You’d never hurt me more than I could take.  _

The corner of Goro’s mouth curled into a razor edged smile. “Very well. Let’s begin.” 

After carefully cleaning and disinfecting Ren’s skin, Goro took his time with the knifework. He mercilessly teased Ren’s cock with his fingers and mouth so that Ren came hard just after the last line of whatever design he’d created was put into place. 

Goro set the scalpel aside and was on Ren in an instant, trembling with want, his cock hard through his slacks. He kissed Ren messily, clutching at his shoulders, barely in control of his own movements. 

“I’m here,” Ren said softly, running his fingers into Goro’s hair. “I’ve got you.” 

Goro tensed in his arms, shaking hard and crying out wordlessly as he came, his hips pressed against Ren’s uninjured thigh. 

“Ren,” he murmured, his face pressed to the crook of Ren’s neck, panting like he’d just run a marathon. “I hurt you. I really hurt you, darling.” 

He sounded oddly like he was on the verge of tears. 

“It’s okay,” Ren said. “I like what you do to me.” 

Goro pulled away. His hair was wildly disheveled, his shirt half-untucked, and he’d come inside his slacks, which now had a wet spot on the front and bloodstains along the side. 

“You idiot,” he said, his voice shaking. “You fucking idiot. Why didn’t you stop me? Why don’t you ever stop me? Someday it’s going to get you killed.” 

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” Ren said. “I trust you.” 

“My bed is covered in your blood and you think I wouldn’t hurt you?” Goro huffed a half-sarcastic, half-hysterical laugh. “Do you have a death wish?” 

“What did you carve into my leg?” Ren asked. He was awfully curious. 

Goro sniffled, but his breath caught on a chuckle that sounded a little more genuine. “ _ Now _ you ask?” 

“Yeah,” Ren said. “Aren’t you gonna clean it and bandage it for me? If you want the scars to look clean and straight, you have to take care of it.” 

“I will never understand you,” Goro murmured.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Ren’s lips. And then he got up, ran a hand through his hair, and smiled. His usual smile, cold and dangerous, but tinged with genuine fondness for Ren. 

He changed out of his pants, tidied his hair with his fingers, then knelt between Ren’s legs again. 

“It’s the kanji for crow,” he said, as he gently wiped away the blood and cleaned the cuts. 

“Crow.” Ren grinned. It made him think of fighting together in the Metaverse, the way their bond always stayed true no matter the shifting cognitive distortions around them. “I like it.” 

“I’m glad.” Goro taped on a clean white bandage, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to the bare skin beside it. “You really are perfect, you know. Everything I could ever want.” 

“Tell me more about how great I am,” Ren said, lying back with his hands behind his head. 

Before Goro could answer, his phone rang, Sae’s name flashing across the screen. 

“I’d better take this,” he said, reaching for it. “Get some sleep, darling. I’ll be back soon.” 

It was several hours later when Goro actually came to bed, smelling like whiskey. Ren woke to Goro’s fingertips tracing the curve of his cheek, then a warm hand fitting to the shape of his neck. 

“It would be so easy, darling,” Goro whispered, his palm over Ren’s throat. “You leave me so many openings.” 

Ren didn’t open his eyes, didn’t try to move away or defend himself. He just held still, breathing deep and easy, until Goro made a noise that was almost a sob and got off the bed. After a moment, Ren heard the bedroom door close, and then the front door. 

Goro didn’t come back to bed that night. In the morning, Ren found a note on the counter. 

_ We’re out of time. We have to take the Treasure today. Tell the Phantom Thieves to be ready. I’ll see you at the Casino.  _

_ -A. _


	28. A truly unjust game

_ You are held captive.  _

Ren blinked blearily, but the drugs were starting to clear out of his system. Sae was watching him expectantly across the cold metal table, and he remembered, now, what he was supposed to do. 

_ A prisoner of fate to a future that has been sealed in advance.  _

“A smartphone?” She picked it up, glancing at the locked screen. “This phone? It’s yours, isn’t it? I’ve been told the encryption on it is very complex.” 

Ren nodded. Of course it was. Futaba knew what she was doing. 

“Do you want to unlock it for me?” Sae asked. 

_ This is truly an unjust game. ..Your chances of winning are almost none.  _

It was a trick. Ren knew that much. A way to fool Goro, to beat him at his own game. Goro always played so many games. 

Ren didn’t want to play anymore. His body hurt all over, his chest burning every time he took a breath, his thigh a dull point of agony. 

“I don’t want to play your game,” he whispered under his breath. He was done with it. No more lies. No more tricks. 

He was going to trust Goro. It was maybe the most dangerous thing he could do. 

_ I beg you...Please overcome this game, and save the world. _

“What was that?” Sae asked, leaning towards him. 

“Not gonna unlock it for you,” Ren growled, knocking the phone out of her hand. It clattered to the floor and he stomped hard on it, grinding his shoe into the screen until he heard it crack. 

“Fine.” Sae got to her feet, slamming her hands on the desk. “If you’re not going to cooperate with me, I can’t help you.” 

“Then go,” Ren told her, and refused to say anything more. 

Sae left. Ren drifted on the slowly clearing haze of the truth serum. He didn’t know how much time passed before the door opened again. 

Akechi walked into the room, accompanied by a guard. He was wearing his tan coat and black leather gloves, and his smile was icy and perfect. 

Without hesitation, he pulled the guard’s gun out of his holster and with a single smooth motion, aimed and pulled the trigger. The whole thing took less than ten seconds. 

Ren winced at the sound of the gunshot, even though he’d seen Goro kill before, many times. 

“Hello,  _ darling, _ ” Goro said, walking to Ren’s side. He leaned back against the table and gently ran his fingers through Ren’s hair, then made a fist so tight Ren’s eyes watered. “Look at you. Tied up and waiting for me like some kind of wet dream. You’re such a fool.” 

Ren was glad the drugs were wearing off, even though he could feel every injury that much more clearly. If these were going to be his last moments, he wanted to be lucid. 

“I really thought we had something,” Akechi said, with mock disappointment. “But trash like you is not hard to replace. I hope you told your beloved Phantom Thieves goodbye, because you’re not leaving this room alive.” 

“You should have told me you were planning to kill her,” Ren said. “Makoto is my friend.” 

“You should have told me you were planning to betray me,” Akechi said, and for the first time since he walked in the room Ren got a glimpse of the vast, cold anger beneath his indifferent facade. 

“This is the only way I could think of to stop you without hurting you,” Ren said. 

“Is that so? How kind of you.” 

Akechi’s lip curled into a snarl, and he pressed his fingers hard against one of the bruises on Ren’s neck, left by the officers who took him in. The sharp pain made his eyes water, but he refused to pull away, to give in. 

“Have you been crying, darling?” Akechi brushed his leather-clad thumb beneath Ren’s left eye. “I wish I had gotten here sooner so I could have done some of this myself.” 

Ren turned his face away. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

Akechi grabbed Ren’s jaw, fingertips digging into another tender bruise. “Is that why you did this? You thought I wouldn’t hurt you? You really are stupid.” 

“Do it, then.” 

“Be careful what you wish for.” 

Then the barrel of the gun was in Ren’s face, aimed squarely at his forehead from less than six inches away. Akechi was an excellent marksman, but no one could possibly miss from this distance. 

“This was your choice,” he said, and he was so cold, the kind of cold that burns exposed skin and turns living flesh to rot. “This is how your justice ends.” 

Ren realized that he was going to die. He hadn’t really considered the possibility when they’d put this scheme into motion, but he had played his hand poorly. Bluffed when he should have laid his cards on the table. 

“I love you,” he said, because if he was going to die, he might as well not hold anything back. “I hope that you get everything you want from this, Goro.” 

The gun went skidding over the table and clattering onto the floor, and Goro’s hand lunged for his throat, cool leather against tender skin. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you Ren, do you understand me?” 

His lips pulled back in a snarl, fingers tight on Ren’s neck, cool composure entirely gone to expose the fury beneath. 

“You made your choice. You lied to me, you betrayed me—you chose  _ them.  _ Now you have to face the consequences.” 

Ren leaned his head back, further exposing his throat, offering himself up. 

“The phone,” he gasped, as Akechi’s fingers dug into his windpipe. “Under my chair.”

Akechi released him and he gasped for air, coughing a few times. He felt thoroughly battered and bruised and hopeless. 

“This phone?” Akechi picked up the shattered smartphone on the floor and glanced at it, then raised an eyebrow at Ren. 

“I was supposed to give it to Sae,” Ren rasped. “So she could show it to you. It would have put you back in her Palace.”

“So I’d kill your cognitive double.” Akechi looked thoughtful. “Clever plan. Why did you destroy it?” 

“Because I’m on your side,” Ren said, softly. “I tricked you to save Makoto’s life. But I trust you with my own.”

“You’re lying,” Goro said, but his voice trembled. 

He dropped the phone on the table and reached for Ren, running his hand into Ren’s hair. But this time his touch was gentle, cautious. Like Ren was something precious, easily broken. 

“I did this because I’m tired of lying,” Ren said. “I’m tired of playing these games with you. I don’t care about winning. I care about you.” 

“Ren...I don’t know any other way to be.” Goro’s hand moved to Ren’s throat, brushing his fingers lightly against the bruised skin. “If I let you go, then that’s it for me. My plan fails and Shido wins.” 

“He doesn’t win.” 

Goro shook his head wildly, pulling back. “To get to Shido...Ren, you don’t know everything I did, everything I destroyed, just for a shot at it. I can’t...I can’t…” 

He picked up the gun again, and Ren’s chest constricted with cold fear as Goro aimed it at his own temple. 

“No,” Ren shouted, surging to his feet and sending the metal table tumbling over. “Goro, please.” 

“I can’t believe you did this to me, Ren.” Goro’s eyes were wild and manic, sweeping over Ren’s face. “You took everything from me, and you did it without firing a single shot.” 

“Please,” Ren begged. “Shoot me instead, if you have to shoot someone. Goro, if you do this, Shido wins. You have to understand that.” 

Goro paused, and although the gun was pointed at his head, his finger wasn’t on the trigger yet. Ren took his chance and lunged. 

With his hands cuffed together, he was clumsy and unbalanced, but he managed to knock Goro to the ground, landing hard on top of him. The gun went clattering away, but not far enough. It was still within arm’s length, and Goro reached for it. 

Ren didn’t know what to do. He never thought he could lose this badly. 

“Goro,” he whispered, lying against Goro’s chest where he had fallen. He put his ear to Goro’s ribcage and listened to the beating of his heart. “I need you. Right now, I need you. Please give me just one more day. You can die tomorrow, it will be the same. Give me one more day. Just one more day.” 

A gentle hand ran down the length of Ren’s back, and he trembled under the touch. 

“For you,” Goro murmured. “Only for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end of part III, so updates will take a brief break while i finish part IV


	29. And I feel nothing at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome to Part IV!! thank you for waiting so patiently <3

##  **Part IV: Metatron**

_ This Enoch, whose flesh was turned to flame, his veins to fire, his eye-lashes to flashes of lightning, his eye-balls to flaming torches, and whom God placed on a throne next to the throne of glory, received after this heavenly transformation the name Metatron. _

—From the Jewish apocrypha

**chapter 29: And I felt nothing at all**

With deft sleight of hand, Goro had his hand on the officer’s gun and pulled the trigger before the man could force a shout out of his doubtless terrified throat. Clean and easy. 

Ren would not be so lucky. 

Goro turned to face the boy at the interrogation table, cataloging the bruises on his face and neck, the blood that ran down his chin. But his eyes were as bright and defiant as ever. 

“Hello,  _ darling, _ ” he said, walking to Ren’s side. He leaned back against the table and gently ran his fingers through Ren’s sweaty hair, then made a fist so tight Ren gasped softly. “Look at you. Tied up and waiting for me like some kind of wet dream. You’re such a fool.” 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” Ren turned his face away. 

Goro’s lip curled into a snarl, and he pressed his fingers hard against one of the bruises on Ren’s neck. The pain made Ren’s eyes water, but he refused to pull away, to give in. 

“Have you been crying, darling?” Goro brushed his leather-clad thumb beneath Ren’s left eye. “I wish I had gotten here sooner so I could have done some of this myself.” 

“You’re sick, Akechi,” Ren snapped, baring his teeth. “You think I like the fucked up things you do to me? You’re so twisted it’s no wonder no one ever loved you.” 

Goro leaned back, stunned for a moment by the venom in Ren’s voice. It was only the truth, so why did it get under his skin?

“I really thought we had something,” Goro said, with mock disappointment. “But trash like you is not hard to replace. I hope you told your beloved Phantom Thieves goodbye, because you’re not leaving this room alive.” 

“I bet you were shocked.” Ren smirked, so familiar but with a new, aggressive edge to it. “Shocked that I would try to run away from you. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? Who wouldn’t run, if they could have literally anyone else?” 

“Stop,” Goro said, pressing the gun to Ren’s forehead, his left hand trembling wildly. “Don’t say another fucking word, Ren, or I swear I’ll—”

“Do it,” Ren said. “I’d rather be dead than belong to you.” 

Goro’s finger shook so much it took a moment to work it through the loop and rest it on the trigger. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go—he was supposed to feel nothing. Just taking out the trash. 

“Did you think that it was just me and you?” Ren asked, smirking. “You’ve heard me talk about them. How much I like Ryuji. How beautiful Ann is. You won’t be missed.” 

“You’ll be dead,” Goro hissed, and pulled the trigger. 

For a moment, the room was filled with silence like falling snow. 

Goro took a step back, then another. 

Ren’s head hit the table, blood pooling beneath it. After all that, he looked so... _ shocked _ . That Goro would betray him. 

Goro’s back hit the wall and his trembling legs betrayed him. He slid down to the floor and wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees. 

_ Ren.... _

For a moment, Goro wasn’t sure where he was. The room was dark, light spilling in through a cracked door, and he was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. He reached for his gun but his fingers closed around empty air. 

He got to his feet, stumbling, and caught himself on the wall. His breath stuttered in his throat, and then came out in a sigh that was almost a sob. 

Ren was asleep, sprawled across Goro’s bed with his eyes closed, the arm that would usually be flung over Goro’s chest clutching a pillow instead. The sleeve of his shirt was pulled upward, revealing a chain of bruises around his wrist. His dark hair was very black against the white pillowcase, and Goro watched the rise and fall of his shoulders until his dream faded enough that he could collect himself and leave. 

He went out in the kitchen and poured himself a cup of whiskey, sipping it slowly to calm his nerves. 

He’d managed to convince Shido that the leader of the Phantom Thieves was dead. For her part, Makoto would lay low and keep out of sight. Sae was on their side, and would help Makoto stay hidden. Ren was spending a lot of time with the Thieves, but that was fine, because Goro could barely bring himself to look at Ren. 

_ I almost shot him. I did. I did. I almost killed him, and no one would have stopped me.  _ And worst of all, he couldn’t stop wondering:  _ Who will stop me next time?  _

Instead of dwelling on his obsessive thoughts, he opened his laptop and clicked on a recent email from the Police Commissioner, congratulating the team that had personally brought down the Phantom Thieves. Having orchestrated Joker’s capture, the names were familiar to Goro, and he knew most of them personally as well as what role they had played on 11/20. 

He went through the names slowly, carefully, considering who they were, who they had connections to, and exactly how much they each had personally harmed Ren. 

At the end of it, Goro wrote four names on a small notepad, organized by the severity of the abuse they’d inflicted on the boy they thought was the leader of the Phantom Thieves. 

It wasn’t exactly a plan for a life Ren had turned upside down and left in shambles, but it was something. A task, at the very least. A way forward, or perhaps just another way to burn himself out, like he’d always planned on doing after his revenge was complete. 

A week later, he was in a back alley standing over the body of the cop who had knocked Ren off the railing down to the ground ten feet below, where he had landed on his back. Goro had caught a glimpse of the bruises when Ren got out of the shower a few days afterwards. Sometimes he felt like he was still seeing them, still seeing the myriad injuries he’d allowed the police team to inflict on Ren. Every blow was his fault, as sure as if he’d beaten and drugged Ren himself. He arranged for it, he let it happen. Ren’s blood was on his hands, and somehow it was redder than any other person’s. 

The body on the ground lay motionless, a slick pool of blood that looked black in the darkness spreading beneath it. Goro took all the cash out of the man’s wallet and tossed the empty billfold on the ground. It would look like a mugging gone wrong when the police did arrive. 

It had been easy enough to lure the officer into a dark corner with the promise of drugs sold at a good price. From there, Goro hadn’t wasted time on one-liners or even bothered to tell the man why he was about to die. What did it matter? 

He’d drawn his gun, quick and effortless just like he’d practiced, the silencer already screwed into place. A single shot between the eyes, and the man was dead. He’d fallen to the ground like a puppet with its strings suddenly severed, a wet thud when he landed. When Goro put the gun away, his heart wasn’t racing. His breathing had been deep and even. He hadn’t felt anything at all. 

Now, his analytical mind scanned the alley, checking to make sure there wasn’t a single piece of evidence left behind. Murder in the real world was more logistically complex, but it was necessary. 

A mental shutdown would have alerted Shido to Goro’s vendetta, but the thugs Shido hired had plenty of enemies in the real world. Shot in the back of the head in a dark alley was about the best any of them could hope for anyway. They were lucky it was Goro taking them out, and not one of Shido’s yakuza contacts. Goro, at least, made it quick. 

He still felt nothing, even though this was only the second person he’d killed in the real world. This guy deserved it, more than many of his Metaverse victims. More than Isshiki, who despite the ruthless curiosity that drove her experiments, had been kind to him. Her Palace had been a laboratory, and had contained both horrors and wonders. 

Goro shook his head. This was not the time to be thinking about Isshiki. He glanced at the scene in the alley one more time, tugging mindlessly at the cuff of one of his gloves, then walked out and melded seamlessly into the crowd. 

He got the call from Shido as he was about to board the train in Shibuya, and the tone of Shido’s voice haunted him all the way back to Yongen-Jaya. 

He didn’t have to ask Ren—he was certain he knew the truth. Shido’s panicked voice and unstable mental state could only mean one thing. The Thieves were after his heart, and Ren was probably the one who had given them Shido’s name and keywords. 

Well, that was only fair, wasn’t it? A betrayal for a betrayal. If Ren wanted to punish Goro for his negligence and cruelty, he had found the perfect method. 

Goro wouldn’t stop him. This was what he deserved. He should be furious at Ren, but somehow he wasn’t. He had slaughtered and sacrificed and strived ruthlessly for his revenge, but Ren’s love had broken him, and now he felt nothing at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the writing of this is going slowly, so i'm going to be posting a little differently. instead of every other day, look for updates every wednesday and saturday. also, it is confirmed that there will be a part v.


	30. The distance between us

Goro stumbled home at dawn in what was starting to be a depressingly common routine. Usually Ren just rolled over, pretending to be asleep. Pretending not to notice that Goro snuck out of the house by midnight every night, and rarely came back before the sun. 

Whatever he was up to, he didn’t seem interested in sharing the details with Ren. He didn’t seem interested in doing anything with Ren, and most of the time avoided Ren entirely. 

“Go spend time with the Phantom Thieves,” he’d said, the last time Ren had tried to talk to him. “You’re one of them now.” 

He’d refused to take part in the infiltration of Shido’s Palace, and instead continued doing Shido’s will around the city, the charming Detective Prince by day and the deadly Black Mask at night. The Phantom Thieves still had no idea about the latter. 

He was furious with Ren, perhaps understandably so. After all, Ren had taken from him the only thing he’d ever really cared about—his shot at revenge. For now, he was letting Ren and the Thieves infiltrate the Palace unhindered, but Ren knew that there would be a reckoning before it was over. 

He hoped he could talk his way through it a second time. 

Ren sighed, rolling onto his back and opening his eyes. It was 5 am, but maybe now was as good a time as any to get it over with. He’d heard the front door open, but Goro still hadn’t come to bed. 

He got up and made his way into the kitchen, freezing in the entryway. Goro was sitting at the dining table, a bottle of whiskey and a roll of bandages on the table in front of him. A shallow, bloody gash crossed over one shoulder, and Goro winced as he wiped away the blood. He hadn’t noticed Ren standing there, watching him. 

Ren didn’t move. He couldn’t. He just stared as Goro finished cleaning the wound and taped the bandage around it. 

In the interrogation room, Ren had kept a level head even when he was beaten into signing a false confession. He’d stayed cool during Sae’s interrogation, and had convinced Goro not to pull the trigger. 

And afterwards, when the Phantom Thieves swarmed around him, urgently worried and caring, he’d won them over with his bravado and charm, dispelling their fear and concern. He’d done such a convincing job that Sae and Sojiro hadn’t even thought twice about letting him limp home. Goro, of course, had left LeBlanc long before. 

And even when he’d gotten home and found it empty, Goro off doing something more important than tending to an injured boyfriend, Ren had been fine. Everything had been fine. 

Everything was going fine right up until Ren saw Goro bandaging his own wounds in the kitchen where they used to argue philosophy over dinner and realized nothing would ever be fine, ever again. 

Ren went up into the attic, pulling his duffel bag out of the corner where he’d stowed it. He took it down to Goro’s bedroom, packing away the clothes of his that had migrated there over the past few months. His hands trembled as he shoved shirts and socks into the bag without bothering to fold them, but he was determined. 

He couldn’t take this any longer, and it was clear Goro would be happier with him gone. 

Leave it to Goro to not only fail to apologize for almost killing him, but to fuck everything up afterwards. 

He slung the bag over his shoulder and went into the kitchen again. Goro had his shirt back on, and he was working quietly at his laptop. He must have heard Ren enter, but even when Ren moved directly into his line of sight, he didn’t look up. 

“I’m going with the Phantom Thieves,” Ren said, breaking the brittle silence. “I’m going to help them take his heart.” 

He didn’t say—I’m leaving. But the bag over his shoulder was evidence enough, and Goro was too clever to miss it. 

Goro turned towards Ren, getting out of the chair and taking a step towards him before remembering himself and dragging his gaze away from Ren’s face. 

“You won’t,” he said, his voice soft but steely cold. 

“I will,” Ren said. “And I don’t give a fuck what you think about it.” 

“Ren…” Goro’s eyes flickered to his face, then away. They were shuttered, distant. 

“They might not succeed without me,” Ren said. “And I owe Shido.” 

Goro said nothing. 

Ren wondered if he was resigned to the loss of his revenge plan, or if he still had a trick up his sleeve, even now. He wondered if Goro realized how close he’d come to pulling the trigger in that interrogation room underground. He wondered if Goro was ever going to look at him again. 

“That’s all I wanted to say.” Ren’s throat was tight, his eyes stinging. “I just wanted to let you know.” 

“Fine,” Goro said, and turned away. 

Once he was outside, Ren realized he didn’t know where to go. It was barely six, the winter morning dark and bitterly cold. 

After a moment, he set off towards LeBlanc. It wasn’t open yet, but Sojiro would be there getting things ready, and maybe he would let Ren sit for a little while while he figured things out. 

When he got there, Sojiro took one look at his face and let him in, frowning. 

“It’s too early to be wandering the streets,” he said. “You stay in here before you catch a cold, kid.” 

“Thanks,” Ren said softly. He set his duffel bag beside a barstool and sat, his elbows on the bar, staring into the jars of coffee beans. LeBlanc smelled comforting, like coffee and curry and kindness. 

“Roommate troubles?” Sojiro asked, as he bustled around preparing LeBlanc for the day. “Saw your duffel bag. Guessing you got kicked out or you’re on a trip.” 

“Yeah,” Ren murmured. “Something like that.” 

“That Akechi kid seems like a real handful,” Sojiro said mildly. “That’s what Wakaba always said, though who knows if she was talking about the same person.” 

Ren looked up. “You knew him back then?” 

“I knew what Wakaba told me. Wasn’t much. Just that he helped her with some of her experiments. I didn’t know he was so young. The way she talked about him made him sound a lot older.” 

“He’s old for his age,” Ren said. 

Sojiro chuckled. “Actually, I could say that about you too. The kids tell me you’ve joined their gang.” 

Ren gave a slight smile. He liked working with them, but at the same time it didn’t feel right, going into the Metaverse without Akechi. 

“Yeah. I did.”

“So tell me, is Akechi a, uh….you know...”

“A Phantom Thief?” Ren looked away, his heart twisting. “No. He’s not.” 

“Ah. Well, no one’s perfect.” Sojiro turned his attention to the pour over. “Would you do me a favor? I’m thinking of renting out that room upstairs in the attic. Take a look at it and tell me if you think someone could stay there.” 

Ren shrugged. It seemed like a strange request, but he did as he was asked. The attic was dusty and cluttered, but there was a bed and a desk, a set of shelves full of boring-looking books. With a little effort, it could be pleasant. 

He came down the stairs and told Sojiro as much. 

“Good,” Sojiro said, setting a cup of coffee in front of Ren. “Well, I ain’t gonna find someone right away. If you’re willing to put up with the dust you can stay there until you work things out with your “roommate.” 

The way he said it made Ren think Sojiro knew a little more about their relationship than he was letting on. 

“Thanks,” Ren said, and it came out rough and raspy. “That means a lot.” 


	31. Getting away with murder

Despite his experience in law enforcement, Goro always thought an actual murder would be difficult to accomplish and conceal. But no one had checked the coroner’s papers when Ren was “killed” in that dark underground room, and no one thought to check Goro’s alibi when he walked into work in the morning to find out he’d been assigned to investigate the death of the officer he had murdered just the night before. 

“We think there’s a pattern,” the Chief told him, shuffling papers in his hand. He sat behind a huge mahogany desk that displayed several gleaming awards. He was a very close personal friend of Shido’s, so Goro was certain the awards had been bought with money, not competence. 

“A pattern, sir?” Goro asked. 

“Four officers dead, and all of them were involved the night the Phantom Thieves were captured. We don’t want word of this getting out to the public, you understand?” 

Goro nodded. 

“Especially with the election so soon,” the Chief continued. “I’d prefer if you not mention this to...our friend in the Diet.” 

“Of course,” Goro said seriously. 

“Very well.” The Chief slid the files across his desk towards Goro. “I trust you to...take care of this.” 

“Yes,” Goro said, taking the files and bowling deeply. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of, sir.” 

Goro had worked with the Chief long enough to know that little exchange meant he was to cover up the murders as well as he possibly could. Most likely he’d get the coroner to declare them suicides. 

The police had asked him to do cover up work before, because of his ties to Shido and because they knew that he could look respectable on TV and tell a good story in front of all those cameras. 

He didn’t mind. None of it really mattered in the end anyway. 

Back at his desk, he leafed through the files he’d been given. They were surprisingly thin—usually a murder meant enough paperwork to fill a filing cabinet. It was odd to have so little, but then, this was a cover up, not an investigation. 

The first order of business was to talk to the coroner. Goro tucked the files away in a locked drawer and made his way downstairs to the morgue. 

The last person he expected to see in the deserted basement corridor was Sae, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She huffed out an exasperated sigh, then turned to Goro. 

“Greetings, Sae-san.” Goro smiled politely at her, but in truth it was getting harder and harder to care what she thought, what anyone thought. There was so much chaos inside him, so much blinding anger. He’d kept it tightly contained his entire life, but now he was beginning to wonder why he bothered. 

Why not burn it all to the ground? Why not destroy this shitty world and let it be remade? 

Sometimes it felt like the rage in him was hot and bright enough to incinerate all of Tokyo, and if not for Ren, he would probably try. 

“When’s the last time we talked?” Sae asked, standing straight and attempting a smile. Changing tactics to try and get under his skin. “Let’s have lunch. I’ll buy.” 

Goro crossed his arms. He knew his part well enough, a flustered smile and a flattered tone of voice, sincere regret as he apologized for not being available. 

But why pretend? 

“I’d rather not spend an hour pretending to care about your justice, if it’s all the same to you,” he said, turning to go. 

“Akechi.” There was steel in her tone, and he glanced back at her warily. “I’ll make it worth your while.” 

For someone whose subconscious manifestation of desire was a casino, she really was bad at bluffing. The sincerity in her tone intrigued Goro—maybe she really did have something he wanted. 

“Fine,” he said. “But it will have to be a quick lunch.” 

He followed her to a sushi restaurant nearby, upscale but not ridiculously expensive. She didn’t say much until they were seated in a tucked-away corner, the food laid out before them. 

“I’m going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer,” Sae said. 

Goro raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you a Phantom Thief?” 

“No.” 

She peered at him. “I don’t think you’re lying.” 

“I’m not.” 

She nodded. “Do you know what really happened to the leader of the Phantom Thieves?” 

Goro shrugged nonchalantly, the chaos always abuzz within him spilling forth. Who else could manifest a persona of a trickster god? 

“You probably know better than I do,” he said. “Don’t you live with her?” 

Sae’s expression was not shocked, but rather resigned, weary. Like she had already known, but had forced herself to avoid the knowledge. 

“Makoto,” she whispered, briefly closing her eyes. Goro took the opportunity to steal a piece of fatty tuna from her plate. 

She blinked a few times, then leveled a steady gaze at him. 

“If Makoto is...well, why was her friend in that interrogation room instead? And what did you do to him?” 

Goro waved his hand dismissively. “Ren is—” injured, lonely, furious, “—fine.” 

“I see.” She didn’t look convinced. “Can you prove it?” 

“Ask your sister.” 

Goro wasn’t really in the mood to play games or satisfy her petty curiosity. He’d seen the inside of her Palace just like all the rest of them—he wasn’t about to be fooled by her polished exterior. 

“I suppose I deserve that,” she said. “Are you really not one of them?” 

Goro pressed his mouth into a thin line. “No.” 

“I didn’t mean any offense,” Sae said, eyebrows raised. “It’s just—you’re that same age. And I know that you and Kurusu are close.” 

“We were close,” Goro said. “Past tense.” 

“I see.” Sae fidgeted in her seat. Anxiety was a strange look on her—usually she was so self assured. “Tell me, is it dangerous? What they do?” 

“The Phantom Thieves?” Goro raised an eyebrow, leveled a viciously sharp gaze at her. “Yes. Every bit of it is dangerous, and it’s only through sheer dumb luck they haven’t died yet.” 

And Shido’s ship was likely to be the most dangerous job of them all. Ren had only been there a few times, and even then only on the upper deck. He didn’t know what the monsters in the bowels of the ship were like—no one did. No one except Goro, who had been honing his skills against them since he discovered the Palace when he was sixteen. 

Sae drew in a sharp, dismayed breath, and Goro tried to ignore the sinking sensation in his own stomach as he thought about the deadly traps and savage shadows that awaited Ren on that godforsaken ship. 

Did the Thieves know about the traps that would turn them into mice? Were they smart enough to solve the puzzles? Could they possibly stand a chance against Shido’s five chosen letter bearers, cognitive beings so potent they had developed personalities of their own? 

What about Shido’s cognitive version of Goro? 

He pressed his hands to his thighs to stop their trembling. It had been four days since Ren left him, long enough for them to make their way deep into the ship if they pushed hard on the infiltration schedule. 

“They have an entire team,” he heard himself tell Sae. “Your sister is a capable leader.” 

But would Makoto take a hit to keep it from landing on Ren? Would Ann know when to slap him awake from a status effect? Could someone like Futaba really be relied upon to provide the necessary navigation support? 

Goro carefully set down his chopsticks and got to his feet. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said. “I have something important to take care of.” 

He didn’t wait for Sae to answer before he turned on his heel and hurried out of the restaurant, towards the train station that would take him to the Diet Building.


	32. Nobody hurts you but me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have to get to work really early tomorrow morning, so here is tomorrow's chapter a little early, as a treat

The pool on Shido’s ship glittered, reflecting the reddened sky. Futaba, Ann, Haru, and Makoto were all dressed in revealing swimsuits, trying to charm the sleazy noble who lounged beside it. 

Ren wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying, the artificial pitch of Ann’s voice as she did her best to lie. 

It was strange, being in the Metaverse without Goro. Ren felt oddly exposed without the one person he knew would always have his back. He knew Goro was strong enough to take on almost anything, but with the Phantom Thieves he was constantly worried, trying to redirect shadows when they caught sight of anyone else’s vulnerabilities. 

He could tell his ability to switch Personas was valuable to the team, but it wasn’t the same as catching Goro’s eye after a particularly strong hit and knowing his own vicious enthusiasm would be reciprocated on Goro’s face. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he was caught unaware for a few moments when the shadow attacked. But he quickly fell into formation beside the other Thieves—Makoto to his right, Ryuji and Morgana to his left. Makoto was their leader, of course, but already it felt like Ren was the heart of the team, the one everybody looked to for support. 

He cast a spell to quicken their reflexes, heighten their agility, and then Makoto led the offense. Call of Command wouldn’t work on shadows like this, so they had to rely on the power of their attacks alone. 

The moment the battle began, Ren knew they were in trouble. Before long, Morgana was lying on the ground, knocked unconscious, and Makoto was a single strong hit away from the same. Ryuji was pumped up, breathing hard and swinging his pipe wildly, and the others were crowded around, similarly wounded and weary. 

The shadow reared back, readying a spell. The air tingled with it, wind whipping at Ren’s hair as the shadow gathered its power to cast. 

Ren didn’t think. His feet were moving before he realized it, and then he was launching himself into the air, diving forward to catch the brunt of the spell square against himself before it could reach Ryuji. 

The wind magic crushed him in an invisible vise, and he felt something in his chest fracture and give. The currents of air flowed upward, stealing his breath, and then everything went black. 

_ Samarecarm!  _

The world came back to him distantly, like he was floating up from deep underwater. All around him was darkness, but his body was swaying limply, suspended in the air by sturdy arms. 

“You idiot. You fucking idiot. You—you could have died!” Goro sounded like he was on the verge of tears. Dimly Ren wondered how he’d gotten here, and why he came. 

“Here’s the safe room.” Makoto’s voice, distant and pinched with concern. “Mona, will you heal him please?” 

“Right.” Morgana sounded just as worried. 

Ren’s body was gently settled on something cushioned, the arms beneath him slowly, reluctantly letting him go. 

“How could you let this happen?” Goro’s tone was hard and cold. “You’re supposed to be the leader and you let him get hurt.” 

“We weren’t exactly in control of the situation,” Makoto responded, with a surprising calm. 

“It’s my fault.” From somewhere distant, Ryuji sounded miserable. “He took the hit for me.” 

Healing magic blossomed against Ren’s chest, traveling up and down his body like restorative vines, pressing into his skin and deeper, mending sinew and muscle and bone. He gasped from the sheer relief, the pain fading away like a distant dream. 

“I don’t see what it has to do with you, Akechi,” Ann was saying, when Ren came back to himself enough to listen. “Obviously you don’t give a fuck about him, or you’d be here helping him.” 

Goro went quiet, the tension in the room thick enough to choke. Ren opened his eyes and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“Thanks, Morgana,” he said quietly. 

“Good, you’re up,” Goro said brusquely, almost but not quite hiding his concern. “We need to talk. Without your entourage.” 

Ren nodded wearily. “Can you give us a minute, guys?” 

The Thieves reluctantly agreed, casting worried glances at him as they filed out of the safe room to scout out the path forward. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Goro asked, as soon as the door closed behind Morgana. “Is this how you’ve decided to punish me? Throwing yourself into danger like it’s nothing?” 

Ren blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I get it, Ren. I understand.” 

Goro pulled his mask off and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. The prince outfit made him look smaller, somehow. Defenseless. 

“I deserve it, even,” he said. “I deserve the worst you can do to me. So go ahead. Take what you will. But don’t act like such an idiot.” 

Ren got up, stepped a little closer. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I mean this, all of it,” Goro said, gesturing to the ship. “Leaving me for the Phantom Thieves. Taking Shido’s heart so that I’ll never have my revenge, even after everything I’ve sacrificed.” 

Ren gaped at him. “I’m not—Goro, I’m not trying to punish you. I left because you wouldn’t speak to me or even look me in the eye. And I’m helping them take down Shido because I know it’s the only way you’ll ever be free of him.” 

“I nearly killed you,” Goro said, his voice tight and harsh. “I would have killed you.” 

Ren knew Goro was telling the truth. And yet…

He stepped closer, taking one of Goro’s hands in his. He pressed a kiss to Goro’s fingertips, then pressed Goro’s palm against his throat. 

“Go ahead, then,” he said, with his best Joker smirk. “Do it, if that’s really what you want.” 

A dozen emotions flickered in Goro’s red eyes, but the grip on Ren’s neck remained cautious, delicate. 

“I love you,” Ren said. “I trust you. I’ve never been afraid of you.” 

Goro’s head fell forward, burying his face in the crook of Ren’s neck. His hands dropped, wrapping tightly around Ren’s waist and clutching him desperately. 

“Hey,” Ren murmured. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m alive.” 

There was a soft sound that might have been a sob or a laugh, hot breath against Ren’s neck. 

“Come home,” Goro said. “Please, come home.” 

“I will,” Ren promised. His chest swelled with happiness and relief. “I will.” 


	33. I'd burn down Tokyo (if you asked me to)

Goro’s small house somehow felt brighter now, warmer with Ren inside it. Like something essential had been lacking, but was now returned. 

Ren was sleeping in the bedroom, tired after his near death experience on Shido’s ship. Goro was theoretically doing schoolwork at the kitchen table, but had gotten up several times to sneak down the hall and peer into the bedroom, just to reassure himself Ren was actually there. 

He’d finally managed to get started on an essay he barely cared about when Ren padded into the kitchen in his sweatpants and one of Goro’s old t-shirts, a promotional giveaway from a lesser known TV station that had once interviewed him on air. 

“Hey,” he said, and smiled like nothing had ever gone wrong. 

“Hey,” Goro said, getting up. “Do you want some dinner? Futaba and Morgana brought over some curry.” 

They had been grudgingly respectful, aware of just how much Ren cared about Goro. Probably they thought his affection was misplaced. If so, they were right. 

“Maybe later.” Ren crossed the distance between them, putting his arms around Goro’s neck. “Right now I don’t want to think about anything except you.” 

“Ren…” This was moving quickly, and Goro wasn’t sure it was such a good idea, with everything they’d still left unresolved. 

“I just need to feel you,” Ren murmured, leaning closer. “I need to be close to you.” 

Some sort of powerful, sweeping feeling filled Goro’s chest nearly to bursting. It was easier to press his lips to Ren’s, to devour him in a kiss, than to try and sort out what that emotion meant. 

Ren pressed himself against Goro’s chest, his hands grabbing fistfuls of Goro’s shirt, and opened his mouth to the rough, passionate kiss. 

“What do you want, Ren?” Goro whispered, gently biting Ren’s earlobe. 

Ren shuddered in his arms. “I want you to fuck me. Please.” 

While Goro had heard Ren say that before, it never failed to send electricity down his spine. He growled wordlessly, moving them so Ren’s back was up against the refrigerator, Goro’s body trapping him there. 

“Anything you want,” Goro said breathlessly, and leaned in to kiss Ren again. The wet slip of their tongues together sent a jolt of heat through him, and he nipped at Ren’s lip before pulling away, hard, the way Ren liked it. 

“Goro,” Ren whimpered, his pupils dilated and his eyes bright with desire. 

Goro reached down and lifted Ren by the thighs, and Ren obligingly wrapped his legs around Goro’s waist, looping his arms around Goro’s neck. 

He carried Ren to the bedroom, pausing twice to succumb to Ren’s relentless kisses, before he laid Ren out on the bed and crawled over him. 

He undressed Ren quickly, desperate to have his hands on Ren’s skin. And then he stopped, caught by the sight of ten thin, neat scars on the inside of Ren’s thigh, the strokes that made up the kanji for crow. Fully healed and almost perfectly straight, the meaning was clear to anyone who might see it. 

Heady arousal pulsed through Goro at the sight, followed by a deep and bitter remorse. He’d marked Ren for life, even though Ren was eventually going to find someone else, love someone else. Because he couldn’t stay with Goro, not when Goro was a volatile weapon, capable of harming anybody within range. 

“Do you like it?” Ren said, smirking. And then something on Goro’s face made his smile fade. “What’s wrong?” 

For an instant, Goro’s dream came vividly back to him. 

_ “You’re sick, Akechi,” Ren snapped, baring his teeth. “You think I like the fucked up things you do to me? You’re so twisted it’s no wonder no one ever loved you.”  _

“Why do you let me do these things?” Goro asked. “Why do you let me hurt you? You can’t possibly want this.”

_ You can’t possibly want me.  _

Ren studied him, frowning. “Do you mean the scar or something else?” 

“I turned you into a criminal.” Goro’s voice was high and unsteady. “An accomplice to murder. I marked you for the rest of your life because I wanted to pretend you might be mine. And then I—I almost shot you, Ren. You could have died. I could have killed you.” 

“You did hurt me,” Ren said softly. “You really did. But not in the way you think.” 

Goro forced himself to meet Ren’s eyes. 

“I was so scared,” Ren whispered. “I thought the cops were going to beat me to death before you even got there. And when I got out, I lied to everyone because I didn’t want them to worry about me. I knew that when I came home to you, you would make everything better. But you weren’t even there.” 

Ren swiped his hand over his eyes. “You didn’t care enough to help me bandage my wounds. I understand that...this is hard for you too. But I needed you and you weren’t there.” 

A wave of shame washed over Goro, and he looked away. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Will you just…” Ren drew in a shaky breath. “Will you just hold me for a little while?” 

Goro laid down beside him, and Ren crawled into his arms, burying his face in Goro’s shoulder. Goro ran his fingers through Ren’s messy hair, distraught and guilty at the realization of how cruel he’d been, how thoughtless. 

“I killed them,” he murmured. “The ones that hurt you. They’ll never touch you again.” 

Ren’s body went tense in his arms and he immediately wished he could take it back. It wasn’t something he’d planned on telling Ren, but at the same time the idea of any more secrets between them seemed intolerable. 

Ren pulled back so he could look Goro in the eye. Reluctantly, Goro let him. 

“I didn’t hear about any mental shutdowns,” Ren said, his perceptive gaze searching out something beneath Goro’s skin. 

Goro shook his head. “Shido would have found out. I had to do it in the real world.” 

Ren’s eyes widened. Goro tried to turn his face away, ashamed, but Ren’s hand cupped his cheek and held him still. 

“What was it like?” Ren asked, still watching him, still inscrutable. 

They were still lying in bed, legs tangled together, but Goro’s heart seized with the panicked knowledge that Ren could get up and walk away again at any moment. 

“It was like nothing,” Goro said honestly. “It felt like nothing.” 

“Nothing,” Ren murmured. His thumb brushed absently over Goro’s lower lip, his eyes dark and dangerous. “You killed someone and it felt like nothing at all.” 

Goro had never pretended to be anything other than a monster. Not with Ren. He might deceive the rest of the world, but he had always been honest with Ren about that much. 

He didn’t want any lies between them ever again. But he also knew that just around the corner at LeBlanc, Ren had a whole loving family ready for him to step into their arms. If he told the truth and Ren ran from him, who could blame him? 

Even so, Goro couldn’t hold back. 

“You don’t want to know the kinds of things I’d do to protect you,” he said. “I would kill a hundred people if that’s what it took. I would burn Tokyo to the ground for you, if you just asked me to.” 

Ren didn’t smile, but looked back at him with an intensity that rivaled the feeling in Goro’s own chest. 

“And I’d forgive you anything,” he said. “Even if you had pulled the trigger, I would forgive you.” 

Goro was stunned. Ren clearly meant every word, and he didn’t understand it. No one had ever loved him unconditionally—even his mother’s love had come with strings attached. He wasn’t sure how to handle it, or if he could. 

“It’s risky to kill people outside the Metaverse, though,” Ren said. “You could get caught. Promise me you won’t do it again, okay? At least, not without my help.” 

Goro stared at him in disbelief. 

“Whatever happens, we’re in it together,” Ren said. “Because I love you. And you might not be willing to admit it, but you love me too.” 

“I…” Goro hesitated. “I’ve never loved anyone before, Ren. I’m not sure I know how.” 

Ren grinned, as sly and smug as he when he had a shadow about to surrender. 

“You  _ do  _ love me. It’s so obvious.” 

Goro leaned forward, pressing his face into the curve of Ren’s neck, helpless against the force of that smile. “I do love you. I do. I’m sorry.” 

_ I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I can’t be the kind of person you deserve. I’m sorry I’ll never be able to let you go.  _

He heard a slight hitch in Ren’s breathing, and Ren’s arms came up to hold him tightly. 

“I’m never leaving you again,” Ren said. “I promise.” 


	34. Manifestations of the psyche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is NSFW! if that's not your jam, just read up to the line break and then skip the rest. thanks for reading! <3

The moment Makoto and the other Phantom Thieves appeared on the deck of the ship, Ren could feel the tension in the air ratchet up dramatically. The Thieves murmured to themselves as they looked Goro over, taking in the dramatic difference in his appearance now that he wasn’t bothering to hide his true persona from them. 

Makoto stepped in front of the other Thieves, Ryuji and Yusuke flanking her like bodyguards. 

She fixed Goro with her most withering stare.

“A black mask,” she said flatly. “We’ve heard about a man in a black mask.” 

“Have you?” Goro, for his part, seemed unimpressed. “Well. I do get around.” 

“It’s not him,” Ren said quickly, stepping forward. Positioning himself between Goro and the Thieves. “That’s just a coincidence.” 

Goro wasn’t the only one who’d do anything to protect the man he loved. Ren would too, even if it meant lying to all of his best friends. 

“He’s working for Shido,” Makoto said. 

Goro laughed bitterly. “I can assure you, that was never the case.” 

“You were gonna kill our leader.” Ryuji stepped forward, shoulders squared. “I ain’t about to forget that.” 

Goro studied the claws on his gauntlets for a moment, feigning nonchalance. Then he looked up at Makoto with that wicked gleam in his eye.

“If it weren’t for Ren, I probably would have succeeded,” he said mildly.

Ryuji balled his fists and stepped forward, but Ann grabbed his arm and held him back. 

“Both of you, stop it!” Ren pressed a hand to his forehead, drawing in a deep breath. “Makoto, we are here to help you. Please just accept that.” 

Makoto’s rigid posture released just slightly, and she nodded. 

Ren turned to Akechi. “These are my friends. Please don’t antagonize them, okay?” 

Akechi sneered. “They’re lucky you’re willing to vouch for them.” 

“Let’s just get started,” Morgana said, striding towards the entrance. “We still have a long way to go.” 

The rest of them followed Morgana into the ship, still bickering. But their voices had lost a lot of the hostility they’d held just a few minutes ago. Ren let them argue, distracted by the subtle but maddening feeling that something was slightly off about his Metaverse outfit. When it had manifested as they arrived on the deck of the ship, he'd felt the familiar ripple of cloth crossing his skin, but the sensation was slightly different on his neck. He only noticed it because he’d worn these clothes so many times, and experienced the transformation from Ren to Joker so often. 

“Here’s the safe room,” Morgana announced, holding open the door as they all filed inside. “Let’s go over what we know.” 

While Futaba laid out the strategy for today’s infiltration, Ren carefully investigated his outfit, doing his best to remain inconspicuous. Whatever it was, it seemed to be a very slight pressure around his neck. It wasn’t uncomfortable, or really even enough to draw his notice, except that it was different from how his outfit usually felt. 

Trying to be discreet, he slipped his finger under the high collar of his shirt and was startled to find a leather band circling his neck, with some sort of metal adornment at the front. 

_ A collar? _

It didn’t really seem to fit the idea of a spirit of rebellion. But he didn’t have time to ponder it, because they were already on the move, headed into the depths of the ship to navigate another one of those infuriating, statue-filled hallways. 

As they walked down one of the corridors, Ren caught Kasumi’s arm and tugged her into a doorway. 

“Hey, could you do me a favor?” he asked. 

She smiled at him. Sometimes it felt like she was the only friend who hadn’t taken it upon herself to judge and punish him for his ‘questionable life choices.’ He was glad to have her. 

“Of course,” she said. 

Ren unbuttoned the top of his shirt so she could see the adornment on the collar around his neck. 

“I can’t find a mirror,” he said. “What does that look like to you?” 

“Oh.” She ducked her head, blushing brightly. “I, uh...do you really not know?” 

Ren shrugged, wondering if it was something absolutely awful. “It just showed up with the rest of the outfit today.” 

“Ah.” She bit her lip and fidgeted. “It’s an A. Just like the one Akechi has on his briefcase.” 

“Oh,” Ren said, his fingers coming up to toy with the leather band. 

“I guess that’s part of your rebellion,” she said, holding her hand over her mouth while she giggled, sounding both embarrassed and amused. “Falling in love with who you want and not caring about the consequences.” 

“Thanks,” Ren said, buttoning up the top of his shirt so the collar was hidden from view. It made sense, he supposed. He’d had a number of fantasies that involved Goro and a collar, after all. 

Though right now it seemed like they were probably going to remain fantasies. Ever since Ren had returned, Goro was cautious with him, tiptoeing around the issue of intimacy. Maybe Goro felt like he didn’t deserve it, or maybe he was afraid of hurting Ren again. Somehow, after all of it, Goro hadn’t figured out that it didn’t matter what he deserved, and that Ren really wouldn’t mind being hurt a little. 

“I’m glad he has you,” Kasumi said, with a soft smile, then hurried off to catch up with the others. 

* * *

“We’ll have to split up,” Makoto said, frowning at the map of the cruiser they’d spread across the table. “To get through this hallway, we’ll need one team to go south, and the other to take the west hallway.” 

Goro leaned against the wall, only half listening to her drone on. He’d go wherever he was told, fight whatever shadows might pose a threat, but only because Ren was here. Only because Ren was determined to do this. Ren was putting himself in danger, and so Goro would be there to protect him regardless. 

“I think I sensed something north, too,” Ren said. “Back the way we came. Goro and I will check it out and catch up to you.” 

Makoto nodded. “Good plan. The two of you are the most versatile. If there’s something we’ve missed, it’s bound to be tricky.” 

She got up from the table, folding the map into its original trifold. 

“Let’s go,” she said, squaring her shoulders and leading them out of the safe room. 

Goro was glad that she was the leader of the Phantom Thieves, and not Ren. He could see how easily it could have been Ren, how the others rallied around him, believed in him, looked to him for strength. But it was a heavy burden to bear, and Goro didn’t want Ren to carry it. 

“What did you sense?” Goro asked, hurrying to catch up with Ren, who was striding purposefully down the hallway. He’d been acting oddly throughout the infiltration, distracted by something. 

“I think it was in here,” Ren said, opening a door to a side room. Like all the others, it was opulent but unremarkable, thick golden carpet, a plush sofa in a similar shade, and a portrait of Shido’s disgusting face, grinning out over the room. 

“Barricade the door,” Ren said. 

“Why?” Goro asked, as he grabbed one of the dining chairs and propped it against the door, just under the doorknob. 

He turned to see Ren taking down the painting of Shido and turning it so Shido’s manic smile was hidden from the room. 

“What are you doing?” Goro asked, mildly concerned. There wasn’t much that could pose a threat to them on this level of the ship, but Ren was acting oddly. 

“I want to show you something,” Ren said, and got to his knees. 

Goro couldn’t help the flush of arousal that took him at the sight. Every time Ren adopted that posture, he was reminded of their first night together, of the way Ren looked sucking his cock, the way Ren had smiled at him with Goro’s come streaked across his face. 

“Now isn’t the time,” Goro said cautiously, forcing away his desire. “I don’t think—”

“When we talked the other night, when you said you loved me, it changed something in my cognition,” Ren said. “That’s what I want to show you.” 

Goro watched as Ren pulled off his long black coat and tossed it aside, and then began unbuttoning the gray vest beneath. He peeled it off his shoulders and threw it on top of his coat, and then looked up at Goro. He was all pale skin and wiry muscle, except for the thick strip of a leather collar that circled his neck. 

Goro drew in a deep breath, but he couldn’t stop his body from responding, his cock stiffening in his bodysuit. He stepped towards Ren like a man compelled, reaching out to brush his fingers against the dark collar, to examine the silver insignia at Ren’s throat. 

“Do you like it?” Ren smirked like he already knew the answer. 

Goro swallowed hard. “Do you?” 

“Yeah.” Ren didn’t seem self conscious at all, even kneeling on the floor with his slate-gray eyes turned up beseechingly at Goro. “Course I do. It’s my cognition, isn’t it?” 

“I suppose so.” 

Manifestations in the Metaverse didn’t lie, they revealed what was sometimes too much truth. But it was hard for Goro to understand how someone would want to wear such a thing, even as his body burned with arousal just from the sight of it, dark leather against Ren’s throat. 

“C’mon,” Ren said, hands behind his back as he leaned forward to nuzzle against the obvious bulge in Goro’s striped bodysuit. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Dizzying lust blazed through Goro’s veins, and anyone less disciplined and controlled would have Ren on his hands and knees on the carpet in the space of a few heartbeats. As it was, Goro had pushed Ren down on his back and was crawling over him, devouring him in fierce, desperate kisses, Ren rutting helplessly against his thigh, before he came to his senses and pulled back. 

Ren whined endearingly, lifting his head to chase Goro’s lips for a moment before leaning back with a sigh. 

“I know you want to,” Ren said. He was enchanting like this, black hair spread on the golden carpet, lean muscle and pale skin. “Why won’t you fuck me?” 

They’d had this conversation before, but Goro had never been honest, not really. He’d told Ren he didn’t want to have penetrative sex, but of course Ren was perceptive enough to see right through him. Of course he wanted to fuck Ren. Right now, his body was aching with the need to spread Ren’s legs and drive himself inside him. But still he held himself back. 

“You’ve never done it before, have you?” Goro asked. 

Ren shook his head. “You were my first for almost everything.” 

It was what Goro expected. He sighed, trying to dispel the insistent throb of desire deep in his gut. 

“You don’t know what it’s like to bottom,” he said. “I do. It’s not pleasant, Ren. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

Ren’s eyes widened, his mouth tightening. “Someone hurt you,” he said. 

Goro shrugged, looking away. “It was nothing I didn’t consent to. And it was a long time ago. I’d rather not talk about it—I only mentioned it so you’d understand my reluctance.” 

Ren reached up and looped his arms around Goro’s neck. His eyes were soft and filled with some strange, tender emotion. 

“It would be different with you,” Ren said. “I know it would. I trust you not to hurt me, and you can trust me to tell you if I want you to stop.”

Goro pulled back, helping Ren to his feet. He looked Ren over, his gaze catching on the black collar every time. He tapped the metal A symbol with the tip of his clawed gauntlet, then ran the claws very gently down Ren’s chest. It was just enough to leave the faintest hint of a red trail behind, enough to make Ren sigh with pleasure. 

“Take off your pants,” he said, and Ren obeyed quickly, eagerly. His cock was already hard, jutting from the dark hair at his groin. 

He got to work on Goro’s gauntlets without being told to—he knew how they fastened and could be removed, as this wasn’t their first time fucking in the Metaverse. 

When he pulled the left gauntlet off of Goro’s hand, he paused, brow furrowed. 

“What’s this?” he asked. 

Goro glanced down. Around his finger was a polished wooden ring, the kind they had seen when they were walking around souvenir stores in Hawaii. Ren had pointed the ring out and said it would make a good wedding ring because it was made from a branch of a particularly ancient, still-living tree.

Goro had said something snarky about Ren’s sentimental nature, but apparently his subconscious had other ideas. 

Ren smirked, and Goro kissed him before he could say anything about it. 

Goro pressed him back against the wall, pinning his hands above his head, and kissed him hard. Ren was slender but strong, especially here in the Metaverse where he could probably do almost anything he set his mind to. 

Even so, he always moved pliantly at Goro’s every whim, eager to please and earn Goro’s praise. Logically, rationally, Goro knew that if he were to do something that Ren hated, Ren would tell him so, and stop him. 

But something about the way they came together cast the compelling illusion that Goro could do anything to Ren, anything at all, and Ren would let him with a sigh and a willing surrender. It was a heady feeling, intoxicating and addictive, to have someone as powerful as Ren completely helpless, at Goro’s mercy. 

He laid Ren on his back on the large, plush sofa and rummaged in the pockets of Ren’s coat until he came up with something that could reasonably work as lube. 

“You’re sure you want this,” Goro said, as he slicked up the fingers of his left hand. 

Ren nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “I want you, Goro. I always want you.” 

Goro slipped his hand between Ren’s legs, brushing against his entrance, a light, teasing touch that Ren’s hips lifted slightly to chase. 

“Hold still,” Goro said. “Hands above your head. If you move, there will be consequences.” 

Ren whimpered softly, his usual wit replaced with desperate desire. Goro smiled, and began to work his index finger inside. Ren was so hot, so impossibly tight. 

“Do you ever do this to yourself?” Goro asked. 

“Once in a while.” Ren’s voice was rough. 

“Do you think of me when you do it?” 

Goro had his finger nearly entirely inside Ren now. He crooked it just so, stroking the velvet walls of Ren’s channel so that Ren’s voice broke as he answered, blushing fiercely. 

“Y—yes,” he said. “Always you.” 

“Good,” Goro said, bringing a second finger in to join the first one. Ren may have done it before, but probably not often, because he was so achingly tight. “Relax, darling. Let me in.” 

By the time he had three fingers slipping in and out of Ren’s body, he’d found just the way to move them to make Ren cry out on every stroke. Ren wasn’t making the slightest effort to be quiet, and Goro wondered if any of the Phantom Thieves could hear them. Not that he cared. 

He pulled his fingers out slowly, and Ren whined softly at the emptiness they left behind. 

“Shh, darling,” Goro said, gently lifting one of Ren’s legs and setting it over his shoulder. “It’s too late to beg for mercy.” 

Ren whimpered, his hips lifting slightly. Goro loved this part—when Ren let go of all the defense mechanisms that usually kept him safe and stable, and instead let Goro take complete control of him. Disarmed without his cocky smirk and his snark and his steely strength, Ren gave himself to Goro, body and soul. 

Goro lined up his cock with Ren’s hole and began to press in. He moved slowly, despite the need throbbing through his veins, the desperate desire to make his claim, to ruin Ren. 

He watched as his cock slowly sank into Ren’s body, then looked up to see Ren’s eyes glazed over with pleasure and surrender, his mouth open and panting. 

“Good?” he asked, and Ren nodded desperately. 

Goro began to thrust, slowly at first, then harder, faster, as the pleasure took him over. It went beyond the physical sensations that felt like sweet fire smoldering and then igniting all through him. Ren’s body was tight and hot and slick and  _ his.  _

Ren shuddered against him, his hips eagerly meeting Goro’s thrusts, his hands still obediently remaining on the pillow above his head. His fingers were clutching the silken pillowcase, his muscles all taut and trembling. 

“You’re so good, darling,” Goro said, his hand on Ren’s cock, working him roughly just like he knew Ren liked it. “You’re so good.” 

He barely knew what he was saying anymore, as the pleasure peaked and peaked and he slammed his hips even harder against Ren’s body. 

“Ren,” he gasped. “I’m going to—”

“Inside me,” Ren begged. “Please. I want you to, inside me.” 

That was all it took to send Goro over the edge, his body shuddering his release as he buried himself as deeply as he could inside Ren’s tight channel. He folded Ren nearly in half, working Ren’s cock and groaning something incomprehensible and achingly fond until Ren came too, crying out loudly enough that probably every shadow on the ship heard him. 

Goro hardly cared. He’d fight every shadow on this ship for the chance to be with Ren like this for even another second. 

“You’re perfect, darling,” he said, brushing his lips against Ren’s forehead. “So beautiful. You’re everything I want.” 

Sometimes it took Ren a little while to come back to his normal self, and he always seemed to like praise and gentleness while he was putting himself back together. And Goro wanted only to be what Ren needed. 

“That was good,” Ren said, his grin resurfacing after a few comfortable, quiet moments. “That was so fucking good.” 

“I’m glad.” Goro studied him, wonderingly. Now that the passion had faded he felt something strange and warm and invitingly heavy. Something almost like contentment. He could barely remember ever feeling it before. 

He turned and saw that the same happiness was written across Ren’s face. 

_ This could be enough,  _ he thought. Maybe he didn’t need his revenge, or his fame, or anything at all, except this, just this. If Ren was beside him it hardly even mattered where they went or what they did. Just so long as they were together. 


	35. Promise me you’ll live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you [Erina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erina/pseuds/Erina) (mari) for the beta read!

The fight with the “cleaner” was exhausting, but at least it was over. Ren was leaning on Goro’s shoulder, limping slightly, and the rest of the Phantom Thieves were similarly injured. But they’d heal. They’d done it, and now they had the final letter. 

All that was left was to make their way out of the bowels of the ship, go home, and prepare to take the treasure. Not that Goro cared what the Phantom Thieves did with it. His revenge had failed, and he felt strangely aimless without it. 

“Thank you for coming with us,” Ren murmured, too softly for the others to overhear. “I don’t know if we would have made it without you.” 

Goro pressed a kiss to Ren’s temple. “Only for you. Are you hurt badly?” 

“I’m okay,” Ren said, removing Goro’s arm from his shoulder and leaning against the wall. “I’m gonna put some salve on this burn. Go take the rest to the others.” 

He handed Goro a small pouch from one of his many pockets. Goro took it further down the metal hallway, to where the rest of the Phantom Thieves were huddled, treating their own wounds. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Ryuji said, getting to his feet and looking around. “I got a bad feeling about this all of a sudden.” 

“Not so fast.” 

It took a moment for Goro to recognize the voice—his but not his. He’d hoped they would make it out of the ship without running into this particular cognition, but it seems their luck wouldn’t hold. 

“Akechi?” Ryuji murmured, sounding shocked. 

“It’s Shido’s cognition of Akechi,” Makoto said, drawing her weapon. 

The cognitive Akechi didn’t even glance at the Thieves, immediately dismissing them as useless. Instead, its cruel gaze landed on Ren and lingered, almost lovingly. 

Goro drew his gun, aiming it carefully at the cognition. “Don’t you fucking touch him.” 

The cognition turned to him, shock written across its features. 

“You’d betray the Captain? But he has been so good to us. He gave us everything we ever wanted. Fame. Power. Even a pet of our own.” 

Goro tensed, his eyes darting to Ren where he was resting further down the hallway. As though sensing a weak spot, the cognition honed in on it. 

“That’s right,” it said. “Even he’s only with us because the Captain found him for us. The Captain forced him into our life. Everything we are is because of the Captain, and everything we have is really his.” 

“That’s not true,” Ren said.

“Oh, yes,” the cognition crooned. “We’d do anything for the Captain. We’ll die for him too, once all this is over.” 

“Is this really what Shido thinks of Goro Akechi?” Makoto whispered. “It’s too horrible.” 

Goro laughed bitterly, wildly. “Of course. Of course Shido planned to kill me. I should have known.” 

“I won’t let him,” Ren said fiercely, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll kill him before he can lay a hand on you.” 

“Oh,” the cognition said with a sly smile. “Our pet is feeling feisty today.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Goro growled. Beside him he could feel the judgemental stares of the Phantom Thieves. “It’s not like that between us. It’s never been like that.”

“You’re wrong, Goro. Don’t lie to the nice Thieves.” 

It was Ren’s voice, but a tone he’d never heard Ren use before. It was cold and wicked and sharp, and it sent a strange shiver down Goro’s spine. 

Ren—but not Ren—stepped out of the shadows, gun raised and pointed squarely at the real Ren’s head. 

Fear seized Goro’s chest, crushing it like a vise. There was a shocked murmur from the Phantom Thieves. 

“If any of you move, I’ll shoot him,” cognitive Ren said. 

The real Ren’s posture was relaxed, but Goro could see the tension coiled within him, ready to spring into action. 

“There you are, darling,” cognitive Akechi said. “I knew this one was a fake. Will you get rid of it for me?” 

_ Darling.  _ Shido must have figured out, from watching the two of them interact at their infrequent meetings, just what Ren had come to mean to Goro. 

_ Were we really so obvious? _

“Of course I will,” cognitive Ren said, his familiar smile twisted into a shape that made Goro sick to see. “You know I’d do anything for you. The Captain can rely on us to get the job done.” 

“The Captain doesn’t even need to ask,” cognitive Akechi said. It spread its arms dramatically, and a dozen or more savage shadows began to fade into existence behind it. The cognitive version of Ren kept its gun trained on the real Ren, unwavering. 

“You always know what’s best, Goro.” Cognitive Ren’s voice was saccharine sweet, nauseating. “I’m glad we’re such a good team.” 

“Ren…” Makoto said, her voice wary. “Why does Shido think you would do this? Why is his cognition of you like this?” 

Cognitive Ren grinned, showing too many teeth. 

“Goro asked me to do this,” he said. “I would do anything for him. It’s pathetic how much I love him. I follow him around like a puppy, and when he asks me to kill, I do it.” 

“No!” The word is forced out of Goro, a brittle exhale. “No. It’s not like that. Ren would never—”

“It’s true,” Ren said, but it was the real Ren this time. He never took his eyes off of his cognitive double, but he addressed the Phantom Thieves. “All the mental shutdowns, all the psychotic breakdowns, all of that was me. I did it to protect Goro, but he never asked me to.” 

Beside Goro, the Phantom Thieves gasped and murmured in surprise. 

“Tell me it isn’t true,” Yusuke whispered, his voice shaken. 

“Senpai…” Sumire sounded close to tears. “No. It can’t be…” 

“I’m the real Black Mask,” Ren said. “That’s what all this means.” 

“What are you doing?” Goro growled. “Ren, that isn’t—”

“They’re also right that I love you,” Ren said, with a deep, resigned calm. His hands rested at his sides, fingers loose and limp. “I love you, Goro. Remember that, okay?” 

“Ren!” Goro figured it out a second too late. Ren was already drawing his gun, already aiming, and his cognition was doing the same. 

The two shots sounded in unison, a single reverberation through the metal encased chamber. There was a shattering of glass, the sound of blaring sirens as a metal bulkhead door rose from the center of the floor, cutting Ren and the cognitions away from the rest of them. Goro lunged desperately, panic blurring the edges of his vision so that the world seemed both distant and terrible. 

But he didn’t reach the wall in time. He slammed up against the metal, calling Ren’s name so loudly his lungs ached with the effort. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Ren said softly from the other side. “You won’t...deny me this, will you? Not now.” 

Goro pressed against the door, gasping for breath. “I’m going to find you. Just hold on, Ren. Just hold on.” 

“This is the deal,” Ren said, his voice weak and ragged. “You have to live. I did this to set you free. To give you a second chance. Promise me you’ll live, Goro.” 

Goro leaned forward, his palms pressed helplessly to the cold, grimy metal. He pressed his forehead against it, trembling all through his body. 

“You can’t…” he whispered. “You can’t leave me.” 

Another gunshot sounded, reverberating against the steel bulkhead. And another, and another, raining onto the steel. Akechi felt the impact of each one as though they were tearing through his body, leaving his heart full of open, bleeding wounds. 

After that there was nothing but silence. He called Ren’s name again and again, pounding his fists against the door until the Phantom Thieves dragged him away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i should apologize for this chapter. and also apologize to mari, who had to beta read for me without knowing what happens in the chapter. if you are feeling sad i recommend her [among us shuake fic ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26635297/chapters/64950751) as therapy. 
> 
> if you desperately need to know what happens to ren, dm me @antithesiscrow on twitter, but i'll just say that the story is definitely not over


	36. Send the good doctor in

“My name is Maruki.” The disheveled man in the white lab coat settled himself on the chair facing Goro and smiled haplessly. 

Goro glanced at him, then back at the TV, where a rerun of Ren’s favorite yakuza movie was playing. 

The thought of Ren was like a stab through the heart, but it was better than feeling nothing. Feeling nothing would mean Ren was really, truly gone. Goro would never let that happen. 

“He’s a therapist,” Sumire said hopefully, twisting her hands together with a concerned frown. “He works at our school.” 

“I think maybe it would help you to talk to him,” Makoto said. “He’s helped a lot of people at Shujin.” 

Shujin’s therapist. How incredibly absurd. How perfectly stupid. 

“How did you even get in here?” Goro asked. 

Makoto blinked at him. “Ren gave Ryuji the key like six months ago. One of us has been here every day since...well, you know. Where do you think all the food is coming from?” 

Goro shrugged. He hadn’t thought about it for even a second. He had only been thinking of Ren. 

“Ren liked this movie,” he said, turning back to the TV. 

All of them fell silent, glancing at each other.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Maruki said. “Can I watch the movie with you?” 

“Do whatever you want.” Goro really didn’t care. 

Maruki, Sumire, and Makoto had a whispered conversation that Goro could have eavesdropped on, but didn’t bother. Ren’s favorite part in the movie was coming up. He wanted to pay attention. He wanted it to hurt, because that’s what he deserved. To be eviscerated by his grief, because to seek comfort or to forget would be betraying Ren all over again. 

“So Ren liked this movie?” Maruki said, settling on the couch beside him. Makoto and Sumire walked out the door with a few cautious glances at Goro before they left. 

“He likes yakuza movies,” Goro said. “Mafia movies. Really any movie that’s about the bad guys instead of the good guys.” 

Maruki nodded. “You miss him, don’t you?” 

“You’re perceptive,” Goro said drily. “Did they teach you that in school?” 

Maruki just laughed, sounding entirely unoffended. 

“Yes,” Goro said. “I miss him so much it feels like my heart is being torn out of my chest every second of every day. I miss him so much I wish I could die. Does that answer your question?” 

“It sounds like it hurts,” Maruki said, very gently. 

Goro didn’t bother to answer that. Maruki would be a fool if he couldn’t figure out that much. 

“You know, our hearts—speaking metaphorically—can be damaged just like our physical bodies. My work is healing them.” 

Goro drew his knees to his chest, watching as the leader of the yakuza clan in the movie jumped and twirled, katana in hand. Holding his own against a steady stream of nameless attackers. 

“But nothing could really heal you,” Maruki said. “Nothing short of bringing Ren back. Isn’t that right?” 

Goro glanced at him warily. That seemed like an unorthodox approach for a therapist to take, but he wasn’t wrong. 

“You know, Ren was helping me with my research,” Maruki said. “I was trying to figure out how to heal emotional wounds. How to end suffering. But I don’t just want to help a handful of people. I want to change the hearts of the entire world, to make everyone happy.” 

He sighed, looking morose. “I never did figure that one out.” 

“The collective unconscious,” Goro said, turning back to the TV. “If you want to manipulate the whole world, that’s a start. Go read some fucking Jung and leave me alone.” 

Maruki sat straight up like he’d been jolted into full awareness. “That’s it! The collective unconscious! All hearts are connected, of course. Of course! That’s just what I need to finish my paper.” 

He turned to Goro with a sunny smile. “Thank you,” he said. “I promise, things will get better. You may not believe me, but they will.” 

“They won’t,” Goro muttered. “I won’t let him go.” 

But Maruki didn’t seem to hear that. He was already halfway out the door, muttering to himself about his new theory. 

_ Good riddance. _ Goro turned back to the movie. 

Sometime later, he awoke to murmured voices. Blinking a few times, he realized he was still on the couch, the drone of the TV in the background. Someone had put a blanket over him, and there was a glass of water on the coffee table in front of him. 

He remembered that Ren had done that once, put a blanket over his shoulders when he fell asleep studying on the sofa. The memory was like a knife to the heart, and he savored the pain, because it meant that in some way, Ren still existed in the world. And because it was a fitting punishment for the man who let Ren die. 

Goro could still hear Ren’s parting words, clear despite the metal wall between them. 

_ “You have to live. I did this to set you free. To give you a second chance. Promise me you’ll live, Goro.”  _

It was the cruelest thing Ren could have done. Goro wanted nothing more than to die, to find his place beside Ren in whatever came after. But Ren had wrenched that promise out of him, and he couldn’t deny that final wish. 

“He’s still sleeping,” came Ann’s voice from somewhere behind him. “We should let him rest.” 

“It’s two in the afternoon.” Makoto, steely and confident. “Tonight’s the night. We need to talk to him before we do it.” 

“You think he’ll come?” Ryuji, his brash voice turned hushed for the occasion. 

“You’re going to take the Treasure?” Goro asked, slowly sitting up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned to face them. “And you want to know if I’ll help you.” 

Makoto stepped forward. “That’s right.” 

Goro shrugged. “Why not.” 

Maybe he’d get lucky and take a lethal hit in battle. Maybe he’d get the chance to shoot Shido in the head. It really didn’t matter anyway. Ren would have wanted him to help the Thieves, so he would. 

Goro didn’t get to shoot Shido in the head. The bastard weaseled out of it at the last moment, but whatever. At least Goro did get to kill a god, and that was almost as satisfying. 

He’d felt alive then, on that platform high above Shibuya, breathing in the thin air and recklessly raging against the clockwork deity before him. Now, however, reality had fully returned, and he felt almost nothing, except the constant dull ache that was Ren’s absence. 

He did feel a touch of appreciation for the irony inherent in his current situation, however. While the room was simply tucked away in the corner of the police station rather than buried underground, it did have a striking similarity to the cell where Ren was held in what felt now like another lifetime. 

Goro’s hands were cuffed to the metal table in front of him, and the investigator on the other side was watching him with unbridled suspicion. 

“Is this really necessary?” Goro asked, jangling the chain that held the cuffs together and raising an eyebrow. “I turned myself in.” 

“We’re not taking any chances with Phantom Thieves,” Detective Watanabe said. “Or with that Sae Niijima.” 

Goro sighed. “Very well.” 

“You are probably the last person I ever thought would be a Phantom Thief,” Watanabe said, studying Goro. “Let alone their leader. Guess my detective instincts led me wrong.” 

Goro shrugged. He didn’t exactly love the idea of pretending to be the leader of the Phantom Thieves—they were disorganized, sloppy, and generally inelegant in all they did. But Sae had asked that someone turn themselves in to testify against Shido. As Goro didn’t care what happened to him, he figured he might as well take the fall. 

Maybe it would have made Ren proud, once upon a time. 

But that didn’t matter anymore. 

It didn’t matter that it had all been a game, orchestrated by a being so far removed from their own little experiences they could hardly comprehend the enormity of its power. A god of control, rolling the dice to see if the world should be remade, or simply put into chains. 

Makoto, the Queen of Spades, and her team of Phantom Thieves made up one half of the equation. On the other, the Wildcards, who opposed them. The victor of their little competition would decide the fate of the world. Or so Yaldaboath had thought, until the game didn’t go his way. Until Ren bridged the divide between them and brought them together. 

Yaldaboath’s arrogance had been its undoing. But that was true for men as well as gods, and now Goro was paying the price for his own folly, his own weakness. 

“I want you to tell me everything,” Watanabe said. “Start from the beginning. Was Kamoshida the first?” 

Goro spun a narrative that was less than half true, but he never gave up the identities of the other Phantom Thieves. And he never once mentioned Ren. He confessed to just enough crimes to make Watanabe believe he was the real deal, a genuine Phantom Thief fallen into their trap. 

“Now,” he said, folding his hands together on the table. “I want to tell you everything I know about Masayoshi Shido.” 

In the end, while the charges against Goro were about what he’d expected, the bail was set at 10 million yen. Sitting with him in the small visiting booth, Sae apologized for the restriction. 

“I didn’t think they’d keep you in detention at all,” she said. “I guess they’re afraid you’ll pull a disappearing trick if someone makes bail.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Goro said. He leaned back against the wall, drumming his fingers against the door frame. “You didn’t have to come.” 

“I was supposed to be your mentor,” Sae said. “I feel like I let you down. And now I’m letting you take the fall. I know you’re not the leader of the Phantom Thieves, but I brought you in anyway so I could save my sister.” 

“I don’t particularly care where I am,” Goro said. “I may as well be here.” 

“I owe you a debt of gratitude,” Sae said. She bowed deeply, then gave him an unsteady smile. “I’ll come visit, okay?” 

“Don’t bother,” Goro said. 

Her smile faded, replaced by a sickening look of concern. “You really are different now,” she said. “The boy I knew for all that time, was that really just a lie?” 

“Yes,” Goro said.  _ Go away.  _

“I see.” She smoothed her hair back and smiled again, firmer this time. “I’ll still come to visit. I’ll bring some of the others with me when I do.” 

With that, she walked out of the room, murmuring something to the guard in the hallway before her high heels clacked against the tile floor as she walked away. 

Goro sat quietly and waited for someone to handcuff him and escort him back to solitary confinement. No one was taking any chances with a Phantom Thief. 


	37. Stay of execution

##  **Part V: Dominion**

_ "The name given to the holy Dominions signifies, I think, a certain unbounded elevation to that which is above, _ **_freedom from all that is of the earth, and from all inward inclination to the bondage of discord, a liberal superiority to harsh tyranny, an exemptness from degrading servility and from all that is low:_ ** _ for they are untouched by any inconsistency.  _

_ — _ selections from Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite,  _ The Celestial Hierarchy _

“Hey, kid. You can’t sleep here.” The voice was gruff, disinterested. 

Blearily, Ren blinked a few times and opened his eyes. His back was against something hard and rough and cold, like concrete. His head throbbed like someone had taken a hammer to his skull. 

A security guard was standing over him, face creased into a glowering frown. 

“You can’t sleep here,” the guard repeated.. 

Ren pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around. He was lying on the sidewalk by the fence at the Diet Building, the sun a cold bright point high above him and the security guard casting a threatening shadow. 

It came back to him all in a rush—the engine room, the bulkhead door rising from the ground amidst the blare of sirens, the bullets that tore through his body and the blackness that had closed in on him. 

But when he looked down at his chest, he found he was wholly intact, dressed not in Joker’s dark coat but his casual clothes. 

“Geez, don’t you have somewhere to go?” The guard looked uncomfortable. “It’s Christmas, kid. Go home to your family.” 

Ren blinked at him. “It’s Christmas Day?” 

Ren’s head spun. That meant more than two weeks had passed since their infiltration of Shido’s Place. Where had Ren been for all that time? 

“Go home,” the security guard said, vaguely threatening. “Or at least, get outta here.” 

Ren walked off as quickly as he could, pushing through the crowd in his desperate hurry to get to the train station. Once he was onboard he remembered the phone in his pocket. He took it out with trembling hands and tapped Goro’s name. 

He put it to his ear, but it just rang and rang. 

_Maybe he’s sleeping. Maybe he’s in the shower. There’s a good reason he’s not answering, I’m sure of it._

But deep in Ren’s heart, cold fear tugged at him. If Goro thought Ren was dead...what might he do? 

He dashed through Yongen Jaya, nearly bowling over an indignant businessman, and skidded to a stop in front of their familiar door. His hands shook as he tried to fit the key in the lock. 

Finally, he wrenched the door open. 

“Goro,” he yelled, running into the dark living room. “I’m here. I’m okay.” 

The house was empty. The lights were all off, and everything was quiet and still. Ren called Goro’s phone again and heard the tinny ringtone coming from the bedroom, where it was waiting on the nightstand. 

He picked it up, breath catching in his throat, terror tugging at his heart. 

“What the hell?” he whispered. “Where are you?” 

He ran out of the house and down the street, around the corner, thinking only that he needed to be in a place that felt safe, where he could take a moment to breathe and think.

LeBlanc stood as warm and inviting as ever. He didn’t notice the sign on the door that said CLOSED, only the warm of the light coming from within. He stepped inside, the bell jingling overhead, and everyone in the room froze and turned to face him. 

“Ren,” Futaba whispered, her eyes wide and full of tears. “You’re alive.” 

All the other Phantom Thieves, sitting in the booths and along the counter, murmured their amazement. 

“You thought I was dead,” Ren said, slowly. “Goro thought so too, didn’t he?” 

“We’re so sorry,” Kasmui sobbed, running towards Ren and throwing her arms around him. “We’re sorry we couldn’t save you.” 

“It’s okay,” Ren said, rubbing her back. “I’m fine. But where is Goro?” 

The Thieves glanced uncomfortably at each other. 

“I...I’m sorry, Ren.” Makoto’s voice broke and she looked away. 

Ren felt ice stab into his heart. “What happened?” he rasped. 

“Someone had to take the fall,” Futaba said, wiping her eyes. “Someone had to testify against Shido, but that meant admitting to being a Phantom Thief.” 

“Goro volunteered.” Makoto sniffled. “But I should never have let him do it.”

“So he’s in jail?” Ren asked. He kept one arm around Kasumi, leaning on her for more than just physical support. 

“I’m sorry, senpai,” Kasumi murmured. 

“They set the bail at ten million yen,” Makoto said solemnly. “We had planned to get him out, at least until the trial, but…” 

“Hey, what’s the big fuss?” Sojiro stepped into LeBlanc behind Ren, carrying a large bucket of fried chicken. 

“It’s nothing,” Makoto said, her voice quavering. “We’ve just missed Ren lately.” 

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him around much.” Sojiro shrugged, setting the chicken on the table. “Well, you’re welcome to join us, Ren. There’s plenty to go around.” 

“Thanks,” Ren said distantly. “But I need to check on something.” 

“My sister can give you all the details,” Makoto said. “I’ll call her.” 

Ren nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Hey man.” Ryuji bounded up from the table, grinning, and wrapped Akira in a warm hug. “I’m so fuckin glad you’re back.” 

“Language,” Sojiro said mildly, but the rest of the Phantom Thieves just laughed, getting up to embrace Ren before he went. 

Goro had a lot of time to think, trapped in solitary confinement. He went about it as systematically as possible. 

The goal, of course, was to remember Ren exactly as he had been. To never forget his voice or his smile or the feel of his skin. But memories of those who died often took on a sepia tone as the person within was canonized, their good attributes accented and their bad ones forgotten. He didn’t want that to happen to his memory of Ren. He wanted to preserve Ren within his mind as true to life as he possibly could. 

At his request, he was given pens and looseleaf paper, but was warned they could be taken away if he was anything less than an exemplary prisoner. Since then, he had spent most of his waking moments writing down his memories of Ren, starting from the day he walked into Shido’s office to see Ren sitting there, bewildered and defiant and beautiful, just waiting for Goro to find him. 

It hurt to remember. Every moment he wrote down passed through him onto the paper like blood pouring from a mortal wound. But he forced himself to continue. He wouldn’t let Ren be forgotten. He would never let go.

He wasn’t sure how many days had passed—they didn’t turn off the lights in his solitary cell so there was little variation to his routine. 

But today, when the guard opened the door, he wasn’t holding a tray of food. He looked annoyed, shoving a bundle of clothes into Goro’s hands. 

“Gather your things,” the guard said. “Be ready in fifteen minutes.” 

Goro clutched the folded clothes—the ones he’d been wearing when he turned himself in—and blinked at the guard. 

“What’s going on?” 

“It’s your lucky day, Phantom Thief.” The guard looked disgusted, and said nothing more, shutting the door behind him. Goro heard the heavy click of the lock, and then looked down at his clothes with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

His bail had been set at ten million yen. There was only one person he knew with the resources to pay it. 

His suspicions were confirmed when they led him out. Shido was standing at the entrance, his coat folded over his arms and his head bowed. He looked like nothing so much as a bald, penitent turtle. It was so absurd Goro almost wanted to laugh. 

“Shouldn’t you be in detention too?” Goro asked. 

Shido glanced at him, then away. “I was. I’m awaiting trial.” 

He spoke softly, his voice lacking the harsh resonance it once had. 

“Whatever you want, I’m not doing it,” Goro said. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you right here where you stand.” 

“Ren told me you would say that,” Shido said. “He’s waiting outside, if you’d like to thank him. He’s the one who convinced me to come.” 

Goro stared at him, his vision blurring. His body felt light and floaty, like he was about to wake up and realize this had all been a beautiful, terrible dream.

“Go on,” Shido said. “I still have some paperwork to fill out for your release.” 

Goro’s hands trembled. He clenched them into tight fists and forced his feet to move one after another. If this was one of Shido’s tricks, Goro would come back in and kill him in front of all of these people. 

After all, what did he have to lose? 

Unless...

He stepped outside. The front of the Detention Center was a vast concrete expanse, noisy and bustling. 

_There._

On a bench off to one side, a familiar figure was sitting hunched over, his arms crossed tight against his chest, staring at his feet. 

Goro wanted to run to him, but couldn’t move. This had happened before—a glimpse of a long black coat or messy dark hair in the distance, but the wrong face, the wrong voice, the wrong smile. 

Now, he found he was afraid. 

The figure looked up, turned toward him. And then Ren got to his feet and closed the distance between them with hurried steps. 

“Hey,” he said breathlessly, grinning. “I missed you.” 

Goro found he couldn’t speak past the crushing pressure in his chest. He just stared at Ren, drinking in the beloved features of his face, his sparkling gray eyes and fine, beautiful lips. 

“I’m sorry I disappeared,” Ren said. “I don’t know what—”

Goro grabbed Ren and jerked him forward, closing the last bit of distance between them for a fierce, biting kiss. He kissed Ren like he could devour him, like he could chase away the suffering of the past few weeks with the force of his passion. 

And then he let Ren go. He brushed his thumb over Ren’s lower lip, then met Ren’s eyes. 

“Next time you die, I’m going with you,” he said calmly. “No matter what you try and make me promise to do.” 

Ren opened his mouth—probably to protest—but then closed it again and simply nodded. 

Goro drew in a shaky breath. He couldn’t seem to stop touching Ren, running his fingers into Ren’s dark hair, clutching a fistful of his shirt. 

“Promise me this isn’t just the best dream I’ve ever had,” Goro whispered. 

Ren smiled, mischief in his eyes. “Would Shido really be in the best dream you’ve ever had?” 

Goro’s laugh was startled out of him like birds taking flight. He hadn’t laughed in weeks, not since Ren’s death. 

“I convinced him to pay your bail. And since he’s your dad, they released you into his custody.” 

Goro’s eyes snapped to Ren. “You told him?” 

Ren shook his head solemnly. “He already knew. He’s different now, though. Since they changed his heart.”

_He already knew._

Goro looked away. This was too much to process on top of everything else. His entire revenge plan had been futile from the start. How Shido must have laughed at him, knowing all of his struggle and sacrifice was completely meaningless. 

“Hey.” Ren put his hands on either side of Goro’s face. “Listen to me. None of that matters now. We can start over, Goro. We don’t have to obey orders anymore.” 

Goro nodded, leaning into Ren’s palm. 

Nearby, someone cleared his throat. Ren released Goro and turned to face Shido, who was watching them with an unreadable expression. 

Goro remembered what the cognitions in Shido’s Palace had said, and for a moment blind anger struck him. 

Ren caught his wrist before his balled fist could connect with Shido’s face. 

“It’s okay,” Shido said. “I deserve it. I merely came to tell you that you are on probation until your trial. When it comes, you will have the best lawyers money can buy.” 

“Thank you,” Ren said. 

“If you will sign here,” Shido said, handing Goro an open file of papers. “The deed to the house you live in. And the forms beneath that will give you control of several bank accounts. Some offshore, some here in Japan. All of it is dirty money, but I hope it serves you well nevertheless.” 

Goro signed the deed to the house and took it, then handed the folder back. “I don’t want your money,” he said acidly. “I don’t want anything from you. I don’t ever want to see you again.” 

Yet something in his chest was aching keenly—a longing, for the father he’d always wanted but never had. 

Shido nodded solemnly, like he’d been expecting this. “I have...a great many regrets,” he said, his voice raw. “I live with the unbearable shame of all my sins. But the greatest of them all is the shame of what I did to you, my son.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Goro hissed. Only the feel of Ren’s fingers as he took Goro’s hand in his kept Goro steady. 

Shido bowed deeply. “This offer is always open to you,” he said. “And I am always here for you, should you ever need me.” 

Ren held Goro’s hand tightly as they watched him walk away. 

“You know what this means,” Ren said, once Shido had disappeared into the crowd. “We’re free.” 

“I’m still going to be tried as a Phantom Thief,” Goro said wryly, turning to him. “I’m still probably going to jail.” 

“Not yet,” Ren said. “And Shido’s lawyers will make sure your sentence is short. And I’ll visit you every day. Twice a day if they let me. And I’ll be waiting for you the second you get out.” 

Ren smiled at him, bright and hopeful and achingly beautiful. Goro was still clutching the deed to their house, and with his other hand he grabbed Ren by the waist and pulled him closer. 

It wouldn’t be easy, but they would make it work. 

“Let’s go home,” he said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to thank [Erina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erina/pseuds/Erina) (mari) and [aminami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminami/pseuds/aminami) (aki) for helping me figure out how part V should go. they are storytelling geniuses so check out their work! 
> 
> we are on the final part of the story. i'm still figuring out where chapter breaks will be, but you can expect about 10 more chapters until the end. 
> 
> thank you for reading <3


	38. So which of you is the psychopath?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to shout out to the brilliant [lady peony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_peony/pseuds/lady_peony) for helping me wrangle the ending!

When Ren woke up, Goro was still asleep. He was lying flat on his back, one arm around Ren who had cuddled up against his chest. It was the way they usually slept, and it made Ren feel like some normalcy was returning to their lives. 

Usually Goro woke first—he slept very little as a rule. Ren took the rare opportunity to watch him sleep, the sharp lines of his face relaxed and gentle. Ren pressed a very soft kiss to his forehead and untangled himself carefully. 

Ren moved quietly out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He investigated the refrigerator and found that there were enough ingredients to make breakfast omelettes. 

He was cracking an egg into the frying pan when he heard a loud crash coming from the bedroom. He turned off the burner and hurried down the hall. 

He nearly collided with Goro in the doorway to their bedroom, Goro’s eyes wild and frantic. 

“Hey,” he said, catching Goro by the shoulders. “What happened?” 

Goro sucked in a breath and wrapped his arms around Ren, clinging tightly to him and murmuring something incomprehensible against Ren’s neck. 

“It’s okay,” Ren murmured, trying to be reassuring. “I’m here.” 

Goro pulled back, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with shame and embarrassment. “I apologize,” he said. “For startling you.” 

“It’s okay,” Ren said. “We all have nightmares.” 

“It’s not exactly that,” Goro said, pulling back. “It’s just that...I woke up and you weren’t there. And I thought, well…” 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“When you were gone I had dreams that you were still alive. And then I woke up to the truth. That’s all it is.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ren said. 

Goro’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “That’s what you said before, too. You said you’d never leave me.” 

Ren didn’t know what to say to that. If he should apologize, or try to comfort Goro again. But before he could decide, Goro turned away. 

“I’ll clean up and take a shower,” he said. 

“Okay.” Ren watched him go, his heart aching. 

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch and watched mindless TV. Goro was still not entirely himself, uncertain and hesitant where he was usually dauntless and acerbic. Ren understood. It had been the blink of an eye for him, dying in Shido’s Palace and then waking on the ground outside the Diet Building weeks later. For Goro, it must have felt like an eternity. 

A knock on the door startled them both, and Ren got up to answer it. 

“Hey, Ren,” Kasumi said, smiling widely at him. “We all came to see you.” 

She wasn’t lying—all of the Phantom Thieves, including Morgana who was riding in Haru’s giant pink purse, were waiting outside. 

Ren glanced back at Goro, who just shrugged, looking annoyed. 

“Uh, come in,” Ren said. 

“We were so worried about you,” Kasumi said, setting a white box on the dining table. “I brought you a cake. I wanted them to write on it:  _ We’re so glad you’re alive _ , but Makoto said the bakery would ask too many questions.” 

Ren grinned and hugged her. “Thank you.” 

“We are all glad you’re okay, Ren.” Makoto’s voice was cool and clear, and it cut through all the noise in the room. The Queen of Spades wielding the Call of Command, created to oppose the Wildcards. Goro had told him all of it last night. 

“You don’t sound glad,” Goro said warily. He’d gotten off the couch and was standing with one hand on his hip, unsettlingly close to the kitchen drawer where he kept a spare pistol. 

“Of course I’m glad,” Makoto said. “We all are. But we have some questions for the two of you.” 

“You didn’t tell me you were going to do this,” Kasumi said, sounding betrayed. “You said we were just going to visit Ren.” 

“I’m sorry.” Makoto glanced at Kasumi, looking genuinely contrite, but also resolved. “But this is important, Sumi.” 

“Well I’m not going to be part of it,” Kasumi said, sounding close to tears. “Ren is my best friend.” 

“He admitted to being the Black Mask,” Makoto said. She leveled a cold, searching gaze at Ren. “It sounded to me like you were covering for someone. I want you to tell us the truth.” 

Goro stepped forward, arms crossed. “The truth is that—”

“We did it together,” Ren said. “I was with him every time. Ever since I came to Tokyo I’ve been by his side.” 

“Ren.” Goro’s tone was flat and annoyed. “I can hold my own against these  _ children _ . I don’t need you to protect me.” 

“We’re not here to attack anyone,” Ann said. “We just want to know the truth.” 

“Akechi’s going to jail anyway,” Ryuji said. “Ain’t he? So it don’t even matter if he’s guilty. We know he’s gonna make it right.” 

Goro sighed. He drummed his fingers on the counter, taking them all in. 

“Fine,” he said. “I am the Black Mask. I’m sure you’re all shocked.”

The soft intake of air was Haru, her eyes sparkling with tears and her face rigid with grief and anger. 

“I see,” Makoto said solemnly. “Thank you for telling us the truth.” 

“I have a question too,” Futaba said, her shoulders tight and tense, hands clasped behind her back. “Was my mom...Did you…” 

“Yes,” Goro said. 

Ren wanted to jump in and defend him, to tell Futaba that her mother was the first one, that she’d pushed Goro to it with her experiments, that it wasn’t entirely his fault. But a stern look from Goro held him back. 

“Ren.” Haru’s voice was soft, a thread of steel within it. “How can you be okay with this?” 

Ren shrugged. The question threw him off balance, because he wasn’t sure how to answer it. He wished that he had a thoughtful, passionate response that would convince Goro of his love, and show the Thieves just how much Goro deserved their friendship and forgiveness. 

But the truth was he didn’t know. He had fallen in love, and somewhere along the way that love had become unconditional, and further down the path the fate of society and all the people in it had started to matter a lot less than Goro himself. 

“I love Goro,” he said. It was as close an answer as he could give. 

“The Metaverse is gone,” Makoto said to Goro. “Does this mean you’re done killing as well? Can we trust you from now on?” 

The corner of Goro’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Trust is a fool’s game. But I have no motive at the moment. Does that help?”

Makoto glared at him. “I don’t know if—” 

“I think that’s enough,” Ren said quietly, but with clear, unshakeable authority in his voice. “You have what you came for. Now I’d like you to leave.” 

Makoto opened her mouth, then closed it and nodded. 

“Ren…” Ann murmured, as the Thieves began to file out. “We’re sorry.” 

A few of the others echoed the sentiment. But even though their interrogation had been somewhat justified, Ren felt oddly betrayed by it. Kasumi’s apology was the only one he trusted, and he hugged her tightly before she left. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Goro said, when the door had shut behind the last of them. 

Ren went to him and pulled him close, burying his face in Goro’s neck. 

“I always knew you’d have to choose,” Goro said softly. “Them or me. But I wish it wouldn’t cause you so much unhappiness.” 

“They’re still my friends,” Ren said. “They’ll come around, I know they will.”


	39. New Year's Day, New Year's Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beyond here be p5 royal spoilers. beware!

Ren woke slowly, his head throbbing and his mouth dry and disgusting. It took him a moment to remember where he was, or that the warm weight on his chest, the hot breath against his collarbone, was his still blissfully sleeping boyfriend. 

“Goro,” he murmured, poking Goro gently. 

“Fuck off,” Goro slurred. “I’m sleeping.” 

A soft giggle came from nearby and Ren turned his head to see Kasumi, sitting up on the nest of blankets she’d made for herself during last night’s drunken revelry, covering her mouth to hide her smile. 

On the other side of the coffee table, Ryuji was still out cold, snoring softly. The sparkly barrettes Ann had put in his hair last night were still there. 

_“I’m secure in my mascu-fucking-linity,”_ he’d said, but he’d drawn the line at painting his nails. Unlike Ren, whose fingers now sported a brilliant shade of “Purple Promise.” 

That was before Akechi brought down the booze. As though trying to make amends, he’d somehow gotten his hands on several bottles of high priced champagne, which they had demolished quickly and then moved on to the whiskey. 

Ren didn’t remember everything that had happened, but it had been fun. Not all of the Thieves were willing to hang out with Goro, but a few of them still wanted to be in Ren’s life. And that meant spending time with Goro too. Ren wasn’t about to leave him behind. 

Last night, they had gotten a chance to see just how much fun Goro could be when he wasn’t trying to destroy them. And everyone had gotten along pretty well. Despite the current hangover, Ren was still in pretty high spirits. 

“Goro,” he tried again. “Get up.” 

Goro raised his head and looked blearily at Ren. “You hate me.” 

“I don’t hate you. I just really have to pee.” 

Goro’s mouth turned in that achingly fond smile he used to try and hide, but now was willing to wear proudly, even as Ren’s friends all stirred around him. 

“Fine,” Goro said, sliding off of Ren with as much dignity as he could muster. “I’ll just sit here. Unloved. Abandoned.” 

Ren grinned and leaned in for a kiss that left Goro grumbling about his morning breath before heading off down the hall. Behind him, he could hear Kasumi’s giggling, high and clear as bells in the beautiful morning. 

“Happy New Year,” Ren whispered to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was going to be a good one, he just knew it. 

Kasumi left to meet up with Makoto in Odaiba for some breakfast, and Ryuji was off to spend time with his mom, so Goro and Ren headed out together to find some food. Of course there was really only one place to go. 

Inside LeBlanc, a dark haired woman was sitting in a booth opposite Sojiro, her arm around Futaba. She was laughing, her head thrown back and her eyes closed in mirth. And then she turned to look at them. 

At Ren’s side, Goro went completely still. 

“Goro!” The woman smiled at him, warm and welcoming. “How funny to run into you here of all places. How many years has it been?” 

“Four years, Isshiki-san,” Goro said. His voice was carefully neutral, but Ren could pick up on the tension in it. “It was four years ago.” 

“Hey, you know my mom?” Futaba was perched on the booth, knees drawn to her chest, but she seemed much more open and at ease with herself than Ren had ever seen before. 

Ren glanced from Futaba to Goro in shock, but Goro’s eyes were still trained on Futaba’s mother, pale and tense like he’d just seen a ghost. In a way, he had. 

“Oh sure,” Isshiki said, waving her hand. “He helped me with my research a few years back.” 

“Really?” Futaba blinked at Goro, then smiled. “I want to hear all about it.” 

“What have you been up to since we last met?” Goro said to Isshiki, and now his eyes were cold, cunning. The ruthless investigator behind the Detective Prince’s facade. 

“Oh, most of it is classified,” Isshiki said with a careless smile. 

“You must be able to share some detail,” Goro said. “Where you lived for all that time? What school Futaba went to?” 

Ren glanced over and saw that Goro’s hands were clenched into fists, that he was the kind of calm that precedes a deadly storm. 

“You always were curious,” Isshiki said, her smile still in place. “That’s what made you such a good helper.” 

“Test subject,” Goro corrected her. “I was an experimental specimen, not an intern.” 

Ren tensed. Something about the situation felt unstable, dangerous. Like the world might fracture around them if they pressed too hard. 

“Goro and I just came to say Happy New Year,” Ren said, grabbing for Goro’s hand. “We’d better be off, though. We have a lot planned for today.” 

“Well, you have fun,” Sojiro said, with the kind of smile Ren had never, ever seen him wear. Unencumbered by the grief Ren hadn’t even realized Sojiro was carrying, his expression was warm and almost radiant. 

“C’mon,” Ren said softly, tugging on Goro’s wrist. After a long moment of staring hard at Isshiki, Goro relented and let Ren drag him out of LeBlanc. 

Ren looked around for somewhere secluded, somewhere they could talk. He led Goro into the nearby laundry and turned to face him. 

“She shouldn’t be...alive,” Ren said. 

“I can correct that,” Goro said coolly. His face was a blank, his body perfectly still, and Ren knew that he was capable of almost anything right now. 

He’d seen Goro like this once before, at the TV station with the man Ren now knew was Kasumi’s father. Lost in a frightening moment, and all the more vicious for the fear. Drawn back to a time when he was helpless, he became a creature of sharp, jagged edges, ready to sunder the world before it could break him. 

Ren cast about for something to tether Goro to the world, to bring him back to himself before he did something he would regret. 

“This is a puzzle, Goro,” he said. “It’s a riddle. Something is wrong with the world. We have to figure this out, and you can’t just go murder a piece of evidence.” 

After a moment, Goro’s eyes found Ren’s. He looked more himself, if cold and distant and angry. 

“Am I scaring you?” he asked, his expression unreadable. 

“Of course not,” Ren said, taking Goro’s gloved left hand in both of his. “It’s just...it looked like it was painful, seeing her again. I just don’t want anything to ever hurt you.” 

Goro’s expression softened just a fraction. “It was a long time ago.” 

“Sometimes those are the things that affect us the most,” Ren said. 

Goro looked away. “It wasn’t her fault. At the time I thought it was. But later, I got my hands on her lab notebooks. I saw the situation she had been forced into. They wanted results, and they used her daughter to blackmail her into resorting to...unethical practices. I was merely collateral damage.” 

Goro laughed softly, bitterly. 

“I suppose in the end, she was too.” 

Ren pulled Goro close and hugged him tightly, settling his chin over Goro’s shoulder. Goro leaned into him, sighing softly. 

“It’s hard to regret it now,” he said. “It’s hard to regret anything that led to me finding you.” 

“Yeah,” Ren said softly, letting him go. “I know what you mean.” 

They parted. Goro looked much more like his usual self, wry and clever and ruthless. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it into place. 

“So,” he said. “What now?” 

“You’re the detective,” Ren said, winking. He was about to say more, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. 

“Hey Makoto,” he said, bringing his phone to his ear. “Happy New Year. What’s up?” 

“He has Kasumi.” Makoto’s voice was rough, trembling. “That bastard has Kasumi.” 

“Hang on,” Ren said. Goro stepped closer, listening intently. “Who has Kasumi?” 

“Her name isn’t even Kasumi,” Makoto said, then made a sound that was almost like a sob. “Maruki took her. I don’t know—Ren, I don’t know what to do.” 

“Wait.” Ren frowned, puzzled. This was shaping up to be a really weird New Year. “Maruki as in my therapist Maruki? He kidnapped Kasumi?” 

“I can’t...I fucked up, Ren.” Makoto was crying in earnest now, and Ren’s heart ached with sympathy. “He took her away. He t-took her.” 

Ren had never seen Makoto lose her composure before. She’d never even come close. It was unnerving to hear her now, barely able to string a sentence together. 

Goro gently took the phone from Ren, leaning in so they could both hear whatever came through the line. 

“Pull yourself together Niijima,” he said sharply. “If you keep this up we’re never going to find her.” 

Ren could hear Makoto draw in a long shaky breath, but when she spoke again, her voice was firmer, more level. 

“I need your help,” she said. “Both of you, please.” 

“You got it,” Ren said.


	40. Wildcards and the Queen of Spades

“So this is Maruki’s Palace,” Goro said, looking around at the pristine white walls and shiny linoleum floor. It was so clean and flawless it was almost eerie, a blinding, exhausting white and chrome. 

“You know him?” Ren asked, glancing at Goro. 

“He attempted some grief counseling,” Goro said, looking away. “He wasn’t very good at it.” 

“He wasn’t a very good counselor just in general,” Ren said wryly. “But he always had snacks.” 

“Can you two focus?” Makoto snapped. “We have to find Ka—Sumire.” 

“Sorry,” Ren murmured. “We’re with you, Makoto. Lead the way.” 

Goro rolled his eyes, though really he was unoffended by Makoto’s aggression. If Ren were in danger, he would be just as determined as she was to tear this place apart. 

“So you know her real name,” Goro said, hurrying to keep pace with Makoto’s brisk strides. Most of the shadows weren’t attacking them, and they were able to make their way through the strange, sterile hallways unencumbered. 

“Yeah,” Makoto said, her voice raw. “Maruki showed us what happened. Did you know she had been brainwashed into thinking she was her dead sister?” 

“Not exactly. But I’ve known her for years. I did think it was odd she was using Kasumi’s name, but I also didn’t think it was my place to call her out.” 

“That’s fucked up,” Ren said softly. “No wonder Maruki has a Palace if he’s doing stuff like that.” 

“He’s also resurrecting the dead,” Goro said. Something tugged at him, a thread of intuition, but he had no time to follow it as a shadow slid into their path, moving with a disturbing liquid grace. 

“It’s about time one of them attacked us,” Makoto said, her hands clenched into fists as she lunged towards their enemy. “I could use something to kill.” 

The auditorium was dark, sinister and shadowy, but as Makoto strode in all fury and fire, the lights came on. For a moment, Goro was blinded by their brilliance. He blinked a few times, and opened his eyes to see Maruki standing by a large chair where Sumire was sleeping, her head nodding off to one side. She looked peaceful enough, but Goro could sense the tension in the air. 

“What did you do to her?” Makoto asked, low and dangerous.

“Nothing.” Maruki’s hair was slicked back, he was clean shaven, and he looked more composed and put together than the last time Goro had seen him. 

Most striking was the lack of yellow eyes. Somehow this was the real Maruki, come into his own Palace to cause whatever trouble he was planning. 

“I’ve just let her sleep,” Maruki continued. “They say sleep is healing. When she wakes up, she’ll continue life as she wants it. As Kasumi.” 

“You’re just brainwashing her,” Goro said sharply. “She’s in no state to make a choice.” 

“She was in pain,” Maruki said gently. “She was grieving someone she loved more than anyone else in the world. I think you might know a little bit about what that’s like, Akechi-kun.” 

Goro narrowed his eyes. How  _ dare  _ Maruki use that against him? Maruki had seen him at his lowest moment, and now planned to manipulate him with that very knowledge. Goro would not allow it. 

Again something tugged at him, the intuition that had served him so well as a detective. There was a piece to the puzzle he wasn’t seeing. 

“Makoto, have you talked to your friends?” Maruki asked. “You checked in with them before you and Kasumi came here, didn’t you?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Makoto asked. “This is about Kasu—Sumire.” 

“They’re all in the reality they wished for,” Maruki said. “And they’re happy, aren’t they? Have you ever seen them so happy before?” 

_ The reality they wished for.  _

“Even you have wishes, Makoto,” Maruki said. “You fell in love with Kasumi, didn’t you? Not Sumire. And Kasumi is the one who loves you.” 

Makoto’s breath caught in what was almost a sob. “That doesn’t matter,” she said, but she sounded shaken. “I want her to be able to choose for herself.” 

“Your friends are happy,” Maruki said. “You could have that happiness too. For the sake of the entire world, I ask you to give me your answer. Will you accept my reality?” 

“That would mean altering our memories, wouldn’t it?” Goro asked sharply. “Changing our personalities to fit this fantasy of yours?” 

“Well, not exactly. I’m not altering anyone’s personality, just the events that shaped them. And I’m afraid I can’t alter your memories.”

Maruki glanced solemnly, almost apologetically, at them. 

“The three of you are special. Two Wildcards and the Queen of Spades. You’re beyond my ability to manipulate. So you’ll always know the truth. You’ll remember what the world was like before, when it was so full of suffering. But everyone you love will be happy—won’t that make you happy too?” 

“I’m not taking your deal,” Makoto said, cool and determined. “I don’t trust you, and I’m not about to change the memories of everyone in the world just for your idea of happiness. People deserve to choose for themselves.” 

“Fair enough.” Maruki looked grimly resigned. “Then let’s hear what Sumire has to say.” 

He put his hand on Sumire’s shoulder and she stirred, then jolted awake. 

“Hey there,” he said. “Are you ready to continue your life like this?” 

Sumire gasped, leaping to her feet. “Why?” she asked, her voice harsh with grief. “Why are you doing this? Why would you force me to wake up?”

“Sumire,” Makoto whispered, taking a step towards her. “I’m—”

“No,” Sumire shrieked. “I can’t live with this pain. You don’t understand how much it hurts. Kasumi is dead and it’s all my—all Sumire’s fault!” 

“It’s a lie,” Makoto said. “Do you really want to live like that?” 

Sumire fell to her knees, her body drawn taut in anguish. “I thought you loved me, Makoto,” she said. “Why do you want me to suffer like this?” 

“I do love you,” Makoto said helplessly. “Of course I love you.” 

“Then why…?” Sumire put her face in her hands and began to sob. 

Maruki leaned down and put his hand on her shoulder. “I can give you strength,” he said. “I can end your suffering. All you have to do is say yes.” 

“Please, Doctor,” Sumire said, turning her face up to him. “Yes. Please save me.” 

Maruki gripped her shoulder, and an electric current seemed to shoot through him, jolting her for a brief second, her head tilted back and her eyes bright and manic. 

“No!” Cendrillion appeared, twisting and contorting in agony. “No! I am thou, thou art I—do not forsake me or you will feel my wrath!” 

A hot wind whipped past Goro, stinging at his skin, and then Cendrillion, dark, berserk magic crawling over her skin, advanced on Makoto, eyes wild and full of desperation. 

Goro and Ren glanced at each other, drawing their weapons. Makoto was a moment slower to react, stunned by all that was happening. Within the space of a few heartbeats, Cendrillion was on them with a power and fury Sumire had never possessed before. But now she was fighting for her life. 

Goro wasn’t sure the three of them would be a match for her.

Leave it to the Phantom Thieves to show up at the most convenient time. They saved the day and defeated the berserk Cendrillon. Sumire came to her senses and Maruki was forced to retreat. 

“I only wanted to grant your wishes,” he said as he went. “Each and every one. I want you to really think about this. I’ll hear your final decision on February 3rd.” 

“It’s awfully polite of him to give a deadline,” Goro said wryly. 

No one paid him any mind. Sumire was weeping into Ren’s arms, and Makoto’s fist had put a hole in the perfectly blank wall of the auditorium. 

What a strange wish Sumire had—not to have her sister back, but to become her. And just as she had been broken free of that world, so had the rest of the Phantom Thieves returned to their senses. Futaba no longer believed her mother was alive; Ryuji wasn’t a member of the track team anymore. They had each been given a wish, but those wishes hadn’t held them. 

Now there was only one thing left to do. 

Steal his heart. 


	41. I’d do anything for love (but I won’t do that)

The infiltration progressed relatively uneventfully given that they had all been plunged into a strange dystopian new reality. Just as in Sae’s casino, the Phantom Thieves were slow and cautious where Ren and Goro—left to their own devices—would have forged recklessly ahead. But this time Goro didn’t mind it so much. He still remembered what it had been like to lose Ren. He wasn’t eager for Ren to risk his life again. 

Ren, however, did not share his sense of prudence. 

“You don’t have to  _ hover _ ,” he groused, as they took a break along with the Thieves in the safe room just above the radiant garden. 

“I don’t hover,” Goro said, stepping back. “I just want you to be careful.” 

Ren gave him a skeptical glance, but Goro was saved from having to explain himself when Makoto cleared her throat and began to address the room. 

“This is as far as it goes,” she said. “Up ahead is the treasure. All of you know tomorrow is our deadline. I’m going to give Maruki the calling card tonight.” 

“It’s time we returned to our true reality,” Ren said, but as Goro looked over the remaining Phantom Thieves, none of them looked certain. They had all worn pinched, haunted looks ever since the spell cast over them had been broken and they had lost what was most dear to them all over again. 

Goro wondered if he would be so willing to take down the gentle madman if he too had been pulled into that false reality, if he too had been—

_ granted a wish _

He thought of Wakaba’s return, Okumura’s miraculous resurrection. Then his eyes landed on Ren, who was standing with his hand on Ann’s shoulder, murmuring something to her. She nodded, looking comforted. 

_ My wish.  _

Of course he was. Of course. How could Goro have been so  _ blind _ ? But he knew the answer to that before he’d fully formed the question. He hadn’t wanted to see. And now it was almost too late. 

It was easy to find Maruki. He was living in the same place he always had—a peek into the Shujin faculty records revealed his address. From there it was a simple thing to force the lock and ambush him in his own living room as he sat in front of the TV eating a frozen dinner. 

The calling card Yusuke had made was sitting on an end table, in clear view of anyone who might walk in. 

“Hey there, Akechi-kun,” Maruki said, standing quickly. He was wearing stained sweatpants and a T-shirt, the same disheveled, hapless counselor Goro remembered from outside the Metaverse. “How did you get in here?” 

“I broke in,” Goro said, drawing his gun. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Sure, we can talk,” Maruki said warily. “I’m always happy to talk to any of you.” 

“Let me start off by telling you just how much I hate your reality,” Goro said. 

“Hey, let’s take it easy now,” Maruki said, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. His eyes lingered on the barrel of the gun in Goro’s hand, with just a hint of anxiety. 

“You know, I killed Okumura for a reason,” Goro said. “And Isshiki—you’d think I’d be glad to see her, but I’m not. All of my hard work, undone by a snap of your fingers. How could you think I wouldn’t be angry?” 

“Well, I had hoped that granting your wish would smooth things over,” Maruki said, with an ingratiating smile. “How is he, by the way?” 

“Don’t be so fucking flippant,” Goro snarled. 

“I apologize,” Maruki said, ducking his head in what seemed like genuine contrition. “I truly thought it’s what you wanted.” 

“What  _ is  _ he?” Goro rasped, his vision blurring even as he tried to keep the gun firmly aimed at Maruki. “Is he a shadow? A creation of your twisted cognition?” 

“Of course not,” Maruki said, with infuriating sympathy. “He’s just himself. I changed the events that led to his death, so in this reality he never actually died.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Goro said. But he wanted to. 

“You know Amamiya better than anyone. If he wasn’t real, you’d be able to tell, wouldn’t you?” 

Goro swiped his hand over his eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath. That did actually make sense. Of course he would know if the Ren in his bed wasn’t real. If there was something artificial about Ren’s smile, his voice, his whole being, Goro would have sensed it immediately. 

“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” Maruki’s lips pressed into a thin line, careful and serious. “I gave Makoto a choice. Know that if she chooses to return to the original reality, Amamiya will die again.” 

Goro felt Maruki’s words like a knife to the gut, and for a moment he struggled to speak. 

“I should shoot you,” he growled. 

“You could,” Maruki said. “I can’t stop you outside of the Metaverse. But you should know that if you do, my reality will disappear. And so will Amamiya.” 

Goro drew in a shuddering breath. His hands felt disconnected from his body, and the gun trembled as he withdrew it, slipping it back into his coat pocket. 

“I truly am sorry,” Maruki said. “I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m holding him hostage. That’s simply how it worked out.” 

“Fine,” Goro said. He felt very, very tired. “I’m going home.” 

“Give my regards to Amamiya,” Maruki said, with a friendly smile and a wave. 

Goro didn’t sleep much that night. In the morning, he went about his normal routine, careful to make sure Ren didn’t notice anything amiss. 

“Today’s the day,” Ren said, coming up behind Goro and putting his head on Goro’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Goro’s middle and hugged him tightly. “Makoto gave Maruki the calling card last night.” 

“I know,” Goro said, turning to smile at him. “I have something to take care of at the precinct, then I’ll meet you in Odaiba, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Ren said. His smile was sweet, his eyes warm and trusting. 

_ I would do anything for you. I hope you never find that out.  _

Goro got up and pressed a kiss to Ren’s lips before picking up his briefcase. “Be good, my wish,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.” 


	42. What a fool I was, to think you were tame

Makoto looked around the empty chamber curiously. She would never get used to this blinding white segment of Mementos, so different from the festering red wound she spent so many months traversing with the Thieves. 

She wondered if it really was about to be over, or if some new threat would rise once they'd taken down Maruki. Part of her hoped it would. Real life was going to be incredibly dull without any trips into the Metaverse. Without the feel of seething shadows chained to her command and the intoxicating thrill of fighting at Kasumi’s side.  _ Sumire’s  _ side. 

“Well?” she said, hands on her hips. “We need to meet everyone and go into the Palace as soon as possible. What did you bring me down here for?” 

Silence. 

She turned. Akechi was holding something in his hand, a small white canister. By the time she registered what it was, it was already too late. He sprayed the Hypno-Mist and sleep stole her swiftly as a rising tide. 

When Makoto woke, it took her a moment to remember where she was. There was a tension in her shoulders, and when she shifted, she could feel something binding her arms together behind her back. Her legs were bound at the ankle, and when she tried to move the restraints held her tightly. 

She blinked a few times and looked around. They were in one of the safe areas on the train platform, ensconced in the little plastic cube of a waiting area. She was on a hard plastic chair, tied securely to it. 

Akechi was sitting across from her, thumbing through a paperback. He was wearing the outfit some of the other thieves uncharitably called his “BDSM pajamas,” but he’d taken off the helmet. 

“Akechi,” she said, and willed her voice to be steady. “What are you doing?” 

He glanced at her, cold as a predator. “Waiting.” 

“Waiting for what?” 

He took a bookmark and carefully slid it into the book, then closed it and set it aside. All done as primly as the Detective Prince, but there was a wildness to him that she knew meant danger. 

What a fool she had been all this time, to think that Ren had tamed him. 

“I’m waiting for the realities to merge,” he said. “For Maruki’s reality to become permanent.” 

She stared at him. Opened her mouth and then closed it. Then tried again. 

“Why?” 

“You should be glad that you and your Phantom Thieves are precious to Ren,” Akechi said, glancing at his watch. An analog, the kind you had to wind every morning. And incidentally, the only kind that worked in the Metaverse. 

“Because you’d kill us otherwise?” Makoto meant for it to come out cold, mocking, but her bravado faltered under Akechi’s careless smirk. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” Makoto asked. “You seem like the last person who would want a reality like this.” 

“For an honor student, you’re awfully thick,” Akechi said. 

“If you let me go we can still make it,” she said. “I won’t tell Ren about this. Come on, we have to stop Maruki before it’s too late. Then you and I can figure out whatever issue you have.” 

“Or do you just not give a fuck about Ren?” Akechi asked venemously. “Is that it? You don’t care if he lives or dies?” 

“What does that—” Makoto’s eyes widened as she finally put it together. “Oh my god. It’s like Wakaba and Okumura, isn’t it?” 

Akechi nodded, and for the first time she caught a glimpse of the vast, terrible fear that lay beyond his aloof scowl. 

“You don’t know that,” she said. “He came back on Christmas Eve. Maruki’s reality didn’t start until the New Year.” 

Akechi looked wildly unimpressed by her deduction. “Maruki told me himself that he brought Ren back as my wish.” 

“Of course he said that.” Makoto pulled helplessly at the bonds around her wrists. “He’s manipulating you so that you’ll do something like this.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not about to risk Ren’s life to find out.” 

“What about Sumire?” Makoto asked, more helpless than she’d ever felt before “She’s going to be brainwashed again if Maruki’s reality takes over.” 

Akechi just shrugged. 

“This is about more than just you and Ren.” It made Makoto sick to speak the words, but she knew they were true. “The fate of the world is at stake here. You’re being selfish, Akechi.” 

Akechi reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of headphones. Without bothering to look at Makoto, he tucked them into his ears, plugged them into his phone, and picked up his book again. 

“I should have known,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the sudden urge to cry. “I should have known you were still a monster.” 

Ren stood outside the Palace in Odaiba, staring in disbelief at the message on his phone. 

**Makoto:** Change of plans. Maruki’s giving us three more days. I’ll call you soon. 

Obviously everyone else had believed it, but something seemed off to him. So he’d come here to the Palace, hoping to find...he didn’t know what he might find. 

It didn’t help that Goro wasn’t answering his phone, or that Goro had been in a strange mood this morning, distant and quiet. 

“I suppose Makoto’s not coming.” Maruki, unshaven and in his usual lab coat and sandals, shuffled towards Ren. “I’m a little surprised.” 

Ren blinked at him. “You didn’t give us an extension, did you?” 

“No,” Maruki said. “You have about two hours left, actually. If you want to fight, you’d better hurry.” 

Ren frowned, pulling out his phone. He tried Makoto’s number, but it went straight to her voicemail.

“You could probably rally your team even without Niijima,” Maruki said. “But I’m surprised that you would want to.” 

“What do you mean?” Ren asked. “You’ve distorted reality so much it’s barely recognizable. Of course I want to stop you.” 

“You’d do that to Akechi, then?” 

“Do what?” 

“It’s strange, this business of godhood,” Maruki said distantly. “I’m still me, but I’m more than that too. And if you could see what I see, you wouldn’t be the same either.” 

Ren blinked at him. Maruki always was weird, but this was a whole new level. 

“All living beings are made of light,” Maruki said. “And now I can see it, so clearly. You wouldn’t believe how brightly this whole world shines now that I’ve taken away the darkness.” 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.” 

“Even Akechi is a being of light.” Maruki continued blithely on, ignoring Ren’s skeptical look. “Akechi glows with love and yearning and hope. More brightly than anyone else. If you choose to end this reality, it’s not just your light that goes out. It’s his too.” 

“I don’t understand,” Ren said. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this.” Maruki’s glasses reflected the bright sunlight, his expression briefly pensive. “You died, Amamiya-kun. You only came back because Akechi wished for it so desperately I couldn’t hear anything else.” 

“Oh,” Ren said softly. He leaned back against the wall, unsteady on his feet. “Oh shit.” 

Maruki looked up at the sky, tactfully ignoring the tremble in Ren’s hands as he tried to process the information. 

He felt  _ alive.  _ He could feel his lungs expanding with each breath, the sunshine on his face. How could the awful truth be that he was dead somewhere in a cognitive hell? 

Goro’s words from this morning came back to Ren in a flash, weighted with awful significance. 

_ “Be good, my wish. I’ll see you soon.”  _

“Fuck,” Ren muttered, fumbling for his phone. “Goro knows, doesn’t he?” 

Maruki nodded. “I’m afraid so.” 

Ren drew in a trembling breath, tapping Goro’s portrait and putting his phone to his ear. 

“He’s in Mementos,” Maruki said as the phone rang and rang. “Probably holding Niijima hostage. It’s going to be on you to decide, Amamiya-kun.” 

Ren hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. 

“You can see the future?” he asked, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

“To an extent.” 

Ren hesitated, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue. 

“What would happen to him if your reality was destroyed?” He stared out into the street, shoulders hunched with the weight of everything bearing down on him. 

“I don’t know the details,” Maruki said. “Only that his light would go out. Make of that what you will.” 

“Right.” 

Ren squinted into the bright sunlight, and tried very hard to convince himself. He thought of the importance of free will and the outcome of every dystopian novel he’d ever read. He thought about whether a life in captivity could have any meaning at all. He thought about what was right, what his justice demanded. This reality was false, it was unearned, it was manipulative, and it was wrong. 

But all of those were simply thoughts, as easily dispelled as smoke. Beneath them smoldered his heart, and the great love that kept it burning. 

_ His light would go out.  _

On an unremarkable strip of concrete in the middle of Tokyo, the sun blazing high and distant in the sky, Amamiya Ren decided the fate of the entire world, and more importantly, the fate of one the person he loved most. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter left!


	43. The true ending is the one where I’m with you

Goro’s watch struck midnight. He didn’t feel any different, and Mementos didn’t look any different either. Maruki’s influence on the collective unconscious was still clearly visible. He drew in a great, heady sigh of relief. Now he could go home to Ren, and he could trust that Ren would always be there. Perhaps the cost had been high—perhaps the fate of the entire world had been the price. Goro didn’t care. 

At one point he’d wanted to destroy the world, to burn it to the ground, but now he just wanted his little corner of it to remain the same. And so it would. He had seen to that. 

He set down his book and glanced at his prisoner. 

“It happened, didn’t it?” she asked, dully resigned. 

He nodded, getting up and approaching her. “I trust you’re not planning to attack me once I cut you free.” 

She shook her head. “What would be the point?” 

Goro knelt and slashed through the ropes holding her ankles to the legs of the chair, then reached past her to free her wrists. She sighed, rubbing her skin where she’d been bound. 

“What now?” she asked him. 

He shrugged. “Now...the rest of our lives, I suppose.” 

“If I go home…” Her voice caught, and she was quiet for a moment. “Do you think my father will be there?” 

“I don’t know,” Goro said.

She nodded and looked away. Together, they made their silent way up through the tunnels to the surface. 

When they stepped into what was now the one and only reality, Ren and Kasumi were waiting for them, sitting on a bench in the middle of Shibuya in their heavy coats, huddled together for warmth. 

Kasumi’s eyes were red rimmed, but she smiled widely at Makoto and got up to embrace her. 

“Ren told me everything,” Kasumi said, her arms around Makoto’s neck. “All that crazy stuff about Maruki, about the reality changing. He said Maruki made everyone except you three forget, but he wanted you to have someone you could talk to about it. Someone you could trust.” 

Makoto drew in a sharp breath and crushed Kasumi to her chest, burying her face in Kasumi’s neck. 

“I love you, Kasumi,” she whispered. “I really do.” 

“Let’s give them some space,” Ren said, tugging on Goro’s hand and leading him away. “I’m ready to go home.” 

Standing on the subway as it curved around the track, Goro was reminded of that day nearly a year ago, showing provincial, uncultured Ren around Tokyo. How Ren had stumbled against him, and how he’d yearned to put his arms around Ren and hold him close. 

Now, there was no reason not to, except that Ren was holding himself quiet and aloof, putting a strange distance between them. 

“Is there something wrong?” Goro asked. “You seem distracted.” 

Ren sighed. “I didn’t want to get into this until we got home. Yeah, there’s something wrong. It’s you and your fucking lies, Goro. I thought we were past this.” 

“I don’t lie to you,” Goro said, startled by Ren’s tone. 

Ren scowled. “A lie of omission is still a lie. When were you going to tell me that I’m actually dead?” 

Goro flinched as though he’d been hit. A simple reminder of Ren’s death was still enough to shake him to the core. 

“And you kidnapped Makoto,” Ren said. “Did you send that fake text to everyone too? What the _fuck,_ Goro? I thought we were a team.” 

Goro looked away, into the darkness outside the train windows. 

_Even in this “perfect” reality, we can still fight,_ he thought. He had wondered if Maruki’s remade reality would fix his heart, too. But it appeared all of his broken pieces were still just as sharp and jagged as ever. 

“We were a team,” he said coldly. “Until you left me.” 

“I…” Ren stared at him, speechless. “I sacrificed myself to save you. I didn’t—”

“Do you think that’s what I wanted?” Goro yelled, his voice echoing throughout the train car. “For you to kill yourself doing something noble and stupid? How could you do that to me?” 

The train’s disembodied voice announced the stop for Yongen Jaya, and Goro strode out into the cold night without bothering to look back at Ren. 

“Goro.” Ren hurred after him, soft footsteps on the pavement. “Wait.” 

Goro didn’t slow his stride. He hadn’t realized how much cold, terrible anger he had been carrying until this very moment. Hadn’t realized that Ren’s heroic act of self-sacrifice had been a betrayal of the worst sort, and had broken his heart. 

He stood in front of the house, fumbling in his pocket for the keys, wanting only to be alone and out of the cold. 

“I’m sorry,” Ren said, catching up to him. He tugged on Goro’s sleeve like a child, eyes bright with tears. “You’re right. I was selfish. I thought I was saving you, but I was wrong. And now we’ve had to doom the entire world to a false reality because I was an idiot. Goro...” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Goro said, grabbing Ren by the waist and pushing him back against the house’s front door. “The world never gave a fuck about us; why should we care what happens? I’ve got you now, and that’s all that matters.” 

Ren grinned, as bright as sunshine. 

“Don’t give me that smile,” Goro said. “I’m still furious with you.” 

He sighed, pressing Ren against the door and leaning into him, burying his nose in the bit of skin between Ren’s scarf and his jawline. Ren ran his fingers into Goro’s hair, gently stroking. 

“Maruki asked me to make the final decision,” Ren said. Goro pulled away to look at him. “He said it was up to me.” 

“And you chose this. A world where you exist only because it makes someone else happy.” 

“Yeah.” Ren said it with a shrug, like it was a little favor, like it was nothing at all. 

“You fucking fool,” Goro growled, fisting one gloved hand in Ren’s hair, crowding in close like he was afraid Ren might escape. 

“Maybe,” Ren said easily, yielding to Goro’s desperate embrace. “But I’m your fool. You know that.” 

“You’re mine,” Goro said, pressing his knee between Ren’s legs, clutching him with trembling hands, so desperate to be closer to Ren he couldn’t be bothered to unlock the door and let them inside.

_My fool. My darling. My love._

They had the rest of their lives to ruin the perfect world they’d been given. But for now Ren was warm and close, safe and sound _._ Nothing else mattered. 

“I love you,” Ren said, surrendering to Goro in that effortless way he had, melting into each touch, each kiss. 

“And I love you,” Goro said, like a confession, like a promise, like the most precious of secrets. “I promise to make this world into whatever you want, whatever you need.” 

“I’ll never leave you,” Ren answered, his own promise, his own vow. “Never again.” 

Around them, the storm picked up, the snow falling in dazzling swirls of flakes. The wind settled in, sweeping by, but neither of them felt it. Wrapped in each other, they had no need for anything else. 

All around them, the perfect world settled in for a peaceful slumber, unaware of the chaotic will of rebellion that tied the Wildcards together and the unbreakable bond they shared, a love that was stronger than death and more precious than freedom, unchanged by the distortions of the cognitive world and unending even through the tides of time. 

  
  


THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't even know what to say. i'm going to miss this story; it's been such a wild ride. thank you so much for reading this all the way to the end! i hope you enjoyed it <3


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